Of Arrows and Armour
by Majinie
Summary: In which Steve is oblivious and straight, Tony is oblivious and not straight, Clint is in denial and Natasha is sick of this. [Ironhawk with a side of unrequited Stony.]
1. Chapter 1

_Hello to all the lost souls who find themselves here! This story is based on an RP, so it's not quite the usual format. I hope you don't mind and have fun! (Cross-posted on AO3.)_

 _Starring:_

 _HikariYumi as Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, The Vision_ _  
_ _and_ _  
_ _Majinie as Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanov._

 _Depending on where this goes, we might add more characters, I suppose you'll notice soon enough. ;)_

"What is that supposed to mean, 'we can't go after him'?" Clint demanded angrily. "Come on, guys, what the hell?"

"We don't have any information about how heavily he's guarded, how the security measures are, we don't even know who's actually behind all of this," Natasha reasoned calmly. The archer gritted his teeth silently. "We can't stage a rescue mission like that."

"We know _where_ he is, do you wanna keep standing here and blabbing until we can pick his corpse up somewhere? Because I'm definitely not in for that," he snapped. "In case you somehow didn't notice, our hacker has been kidnapped, so we can't really research these guys anyway." 

"Do you want to endanger him by trying to get him out without proper preparations?" Steve now chimed in. 

"Do you want to endanger him by doing _nothing_ to help him?" Clint shot back. Right now, he wished that Bruce was here and not somewhere on the Fidjis. He was sure that the scientist would have agreed with him that they needed to do something. 

"We just want to be prepared," the Falcon chimed in. "You're no amateur, you know that you can't just waltz in there and try to solve the whole thing like that." 

Clint swallowed down his protests. Let them believe they won, fine. He could do that. He wasn't a goddamn secret agent for nothing, after all. Letting the reluctance be audible in his reply, he said: "Fine. Doesn't mean I gotta like it. Since this could very well take a while, I hope you don't mind if I take a quick shower because drying blood is gross." 

Tony had been kidnapped during a mission against a squad of agents from an organisation that the Avengers hadn't been able to identify yet. They'd shut the armour down with an EMP (how the hell did that even work, he had no idea, with all of the inventor's double- and triple-checked security measures) and taken Tony with them for god-knew-what and now the others were refusing to go after him because of a damn detail like that. 

As soon as he was out of the door, Clint pulled his Stark Phone from his pocket. There were trackers in the inventor's suit and he was about 99% sure that the kidnappers wouldn't have left it behind, so he had a location on Tony and if the rest of the 'team' wasn't going, fucking great, but that didn't mean that Clint had to stay with them patiently. It wasn't going to be his first solo-op, after all. 

The coordinates of the suit lightened up the small screen and the archer was glad that he hadn't even changed out of his battle gear before the debrief so all he had to do was jump into one of the cars in the garage and get the hell out of here. 

At first, he was annoyed. It had been quite a while now since the last organisation had tried to kidnap him, but after an hour he started being scared. If someone asked him, he wouldn't admit it, of course, but Tony was beginning to panic roughly one and a half hour after regaining consciousness. 

After Afghanistan, after New York, doctors had told the engineer that he was suffering from PTSD but seriously, Tony was okay most of the time. 

Moments when he was tied harshly against a metal grit while being hooked up with the arc reactor to something unknown were totally agreeable moments to panic! 

In Tony's opinion. Well, there wasn't anyone else to ask anyway.

By the time the rest of the team noticed that he wasn't coming back, he was only three miles away from the place where the tracker signal was coming from. 

For a minute, the archer listened to their complaints and protests over the comm. When it became clear that they weren't going to do anything helpful, he took the earpiece out and tossed it onto the seat next to him. 

_What a great fucking team we are._

Well and truly pissed off now, he floored the accelerator and listened to the roar of the engine. 

"Yeah, let's wait until we got a location," he groused. "What could fucking happen? Great fucking idea." 

Tony's breathing was ragged and heavy, the tape which was strapped above his mouth didn't make it easier. 

_Deep breaths, Stark._

Cautiously, he tested the restraints, but the ropes were strong and cut into his wrists. The feeling of vulnerability increased the fear more and more. Tony felt the slight tremble of his body, more wasn't possible, the bindings were too adamant.

Slowly, his injuries started to hurt more. Someone had treated his shoulder wounds with some bandages, but the cuts on his chest and face were ignored. 

_They need me for something!_

Tony wanted to examine the cables and wires plugged into his reactor, but the ropes on his chest barred most of the sight. 

The engineer's head was fuzzy. He wondered how long he was kept here, he was beginning to grow weak. 

_What are they doing with the reactor?_

The wires ran towards the ceiling and behind him and were invisible for him from there. Maybe it was his imagination, but he seemed to get weaker every minute. 

There was complete silence in the dark room, but he began to hear his heartbeat. His fast heartbeat. 

_Wait... My heart..._ Something was odd. 

Tony felt cold sweat on his neck. 

_Oh shit._

Clint stopped two blocks away from the base, pulling the car over and grabbing his bow. He wasn't exactly inconspicuous in his battle gear, but everything was better than literally driving in through their front door. Not that he didn't feel like blowing the whole building up, but Tony was still in there. 

Hopefully, that was going to change soon. 

It was January and darkness was already falling fast, partly concealing his unusual clothing. Still, the building his Stark Phone marked with a cheerful red dot was a skyscraper, looking like it was probably used for bureaus and the like. 

After a moment's hesitation, Clint pulled a black coat from the back of the car. He was pretty sure it actually belonged to Steve, seeing how it was definitely too large for him, but it did the job of hiding the most obvious parts of his very recognisable suit. 

_Well then_ , he thought, shoving a gun into the holster strapped to his thigh. The bow would be simply impractical in the confined space of a hallway. _Let's get this over with._

Tony fought against his ropes more desperately than he wanted to admit to find out what was going on. Since he had woken up, nobody had entered the room.

At least he thought it was a room. Since he couldn't turn his head very far, he just knew what was in his direct eye sight, which wasn't that much, by the way. The room hadn't got any windows and beside the metal grid he was tied to and a drawer in the corner, there was nothing to be seen. 

Tony tried to cough, but the duct tape prevented it, so he just shook in the restraints. 

He wanted to fight again, but it seemed like he didn't have the strength left. Slightly exhausted, Tony tried to turn his head a bit, but the world around him began to spin. 

The engineer closed his eyes shut before he could get sick. 

Tony wondered when and if someone would come to rescue him. Maybe he had to flee alone, wouldn't be the first time he had to take the initiative.

As he had expected, the lobby of the building looked like any other. Clint walked towards the counter and leaned on it, silently cursing because he remembered that he probably still had blood on his chin from where he had gotten his lip split in the previous fight. Still, he gave the woman on the computer behind the marble counter a pleasant smile. Apart from the two of them and a few security cameras, the lobby was empty. _Weird. At a time like this..._

"Hey there," he greeted. In every other situation, he would have taken the slow approach and tried to pry some information out of her, but there was still gut-clenching worry churning inside of him. He didn't have the time for that sort of thing now. "Where do you keep your guests?" 

She glanced up at him, confusion and wariness battling on her features. "Excuse me, sir," she responded, subtly going into a defensive position, "but I think you've got the wrong address. We don't keep guests here, we're not a hotel." 

"I figured," Clint replied, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. "I'm still pretty sure there's someone staying here at the moment." 

"There's our employees, of course, are you searching for somebody in particular?" Damn, but they should really hire some better actors. This was just pathetic. 

"Yes, actually," the archer nodded. "Public figure, you can't miss him. Fancy suit, ridiculous goatee..." 

In a sudden movement, she whipped a gun out from under the table. The only reason Clint didn't roll his eyes for real this time was that he really didn't feel like getting shot, thank you very much, and before she managed to even get her finger onto the trigger properly, he twisted the gun out of her grasp, half-pulling her over the counter in the process. 

"...and hits on everything that doesn't run fast enough," he finished. "Now, that was just embarrassing. What are you guys, Hydra, AIM? I thought this was gonna be a challenge, but fine, we'll make do." She glared up at him out of defiant, blue eyes. "Is this the way we're going to do it? You can just tell me now because I'm really not in the mood for an interrogation, I'll find him myself if I have to."

Tony's thoughts got too sluggish to form a proper plan for escape. 

_Well, Tony Stark, genius. Just not when it would actually be helpful._

Angrily fighting against sailor ropes was in no way successful, he could save his energy instead of trying it again and again. 

But, the engineer had to admit, it seemed to be the only thing he could do. 

Every now and then, but in intervals that grew shorter shockingly fast, his heart missed a few beats and made his chest hurt even more. 

The whole situation wore Tony out, made him slow and even more helpless. That was one of the reasons it took him so long to understand. _They're stealing away the reactors power!_ Badassium was a really profitable energy source, but after this amount of time draining his power, it ran out. 

_If they don't stop soon, the electromagnet will stop working._

But what was the point? Why didn't they just rip the whole device out or tortured him to learn how to reproduce it? 

No, actually Tony didn't care about that at the moment. He had more urgent things to think about.

Clint sighed in angry annoyance when the would-be-villain-secretary bit out some catchy sentence along the lines of "I'll never tell you". 

"I don't have time for that, but thanks anyway," he muttered with a shake of his head, raised the gun and brought it down on the back of the woman's head. She collapsed onto the counter unconsciously and the archer walked around it to pick her up and place her underneath the desk. No need for every entering person to catch sight of her immediately. 

For a moment, he stared at the papers and computers on the tabletop. He could give it a try and search through the information there, but unless these were complete and utter imbeciles, they wouldn't save each and every of their movements on paper for him to find. 

Anyway, organisations like this had a very predictable trait for such things anyway. After turning the sign on the counter from 'Welcome' to 'Someone will tend to you shortly', he snatched the woman's gun from the counter and walked towards the nearest entrance to a staircase that he found. 

"Basement, always the basement," he muttered. "Why does it always have to be a basement?" It was only logical, of course; no windows, the sound isolation was much better, and nobody wanted to be down there anyway. Fucking basements. 

He pushed the door open and almost cackled with glee when he heard the voices echoing through the hallway. Unbelievable. How had these morons even gotten their hands on Tony? He'd seldomly encountered an organisation so full of idiot mercenaries. Slowly sneaking down the stairs, Clint listened to the conversation below. 

"...think Stark is gonna find a way out?"

A rough voice, answered by a laugh. "Nah, you saw him. He doesn't look like he's gonna do much escaping to me." 

"Wouldn't be the first time," the other man reminded his companion. 

"C'mon, literally all we have to do is stand here and you still won't stop whining? Pull yourself together, for god's sake." 

_Morons._ Deciding to try another old school trick, because those always worked on these idiots, Clint called loudly: "Guys! Shift change. Go get yourself a coffee or something." 

He walked down the steps in a pointedly casual way and greeted the two men with a wave of his hand. 

They weren't even wearing uniforms. What a bunch of idiots. Clint's getup wouldn't be conspicuous at all. 

"Dude, what happened to your lip? More importantly, we get shift changes?" the taller one demanded suspiciously. 

The archer rolled his eyes and groaned, "of _course_ not, you morons," grabbing the two of them by their hair and knocking their heads together. One of them was out cold immediately, the other one followed after a vicious kick to the stomach and a jab to his neck. 

Clint shook his head. "This is starting to get insulting. God, you're all ridiculous."

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ , cursed Tony inwardly. He wished he were able to talk. Just to do something to hide and reduce his fear and vulnerability. 

"Urgh..." Another few missed heartbeats later, Tony went completely limp in his forced position. It didn't matter anyway, the ropes held him in place, so why care? 

By now, the engineer wasn't so sure if the room was really that dark, or if he was just barely conscious. Should it be alarming that he had to ask himself that? 

Tony looked down at his chest. He couldn't see the reactor, but its dimmed light. There were times it flickered, but 'till now, it always lit up again. 

Well, it was just a matter of time. 

Tony wished he could move his arms and curl up on himself tightly around his hurting chest. Somewhere safe. 

Only because dying of a slow occurring cardiac arrest was fucking painful of course. 

The man's eyes were burning, but he didn't pay attention, his whole body ached by now more terrible than his eyes ever could. 

_This time, I don't have a joker. This time, I am actually pretty fucked._

Tony tried to laugh or just smile, but the tape wouldn't allow that. Shit. It would have helped to joke about the situation. 

The engineer wanted to refuse to panic even more, but his mind didn't care about that. 

Clint took a deep breath, a hand on his gun's handle. He wasn't sure what expected him on the other side of that door, possibly a bunch of guards or maybe just an old storage room, but he had no chance but to try. 

Carefully, he pushed the handle down, just to find that the door was locked. Well, at least these guys seemed to have _some_ sort of common sense, but right now, he really couldn't use that. He made quick work of the guards' pockets, but there was no key to be found. Great. The only thing these bastards did right was this. Fucking wonderful. 

With another annoyed sigh, he settled down, reached into one of his own pockets and pulled out the tools he needed to pick the lock. He'd done plenty of that as a kid and had only gotten better with time. The lock was nothing extraordinary and took him barely a minute until it clicked open with a barely audible sound. 

Clint straightened up and drew the gun from its holster, raising it in one hand while the other pushed the door handle down again. Slowly, he opened the door a few inches wide, watching as a thin stripe of light fell onto the floor behind it. When there was no reaction, he pushed it open completely in one go, aiming his gun at the darkness behind it. The sight greeting him made his breath hitch and he quickly felt for a light switch on the wall. He found it after a few seconds and the lights on the ceiling flickered on, leaving the room on merciless display. 

On the plus side, he had found Tony. 

His weapon clattering to the ground carelessly, he crossed the room to reach the engineer, who was blinking rapidly to adjust to the sudden brightness in the room. He was bound to a metal rack with rough, thick ropes, wound around his wrists and chest, chafing the skin raw. There was a trickle of blood running down one of his arms, several cuts and gashes on his face and, what scared Clint the most, another small, half-dried stream of blood originating from the arc reactor's rim. The reactor itself was hooked up to a bunch of cables that simply _did not belong there_ , all of them somehow running to the array of machines behind the inventor. 

"Tony," Clint murmured, trying to sound calm. He had to stay in control right now. "Hey, Tony, come on, can you hear me?" The man was sickly pale and breathing far too fast. Carefully, Clint reached up to grasp the edge of the duct tape covering his mouth and grimaced as he warned: "Okay, this is probably gonna hurt like a bitch." Then, he ripped the silvery tape off in one go.

Tony tried to even out his breath once more, but failed again. His brain shouted he wouldn't get enough oxygen due to his gagging, which caused the engineer unconsciously to speed up his breathing. A vicious circle.

Tony wasn't sure how much time had passed (since there wasn't anything that could help him with that issue) but eventually, his mind shut down to the most instinctual level.

He wasn't be able to think completely coherent anymore, he was ruled by fear. The most natural one, the fear of death. 

Maybe Tony was kept one time to much as prisoner, maybe they messed one time too much with his heart, maybe he just couldn't stand another near-death, but he couldn't help it. 

Barely conscious, the engineer noticed a soft clicking noise somewhere outside his field of vision.  
Suddenly he snapped back to alertness, out of his hazed state. Tony could literally feel the rush of adrenalin flooding his exhausted body, allowing him to straighten up slightly. 

Some long moments nothing happened, the man thought he was hallucinating, but then there was another noise. This times it was different, but Tony wasn't able to get what was happening. 

Even if he wouldn't be panicking, he was too tired. 

Another clicking sound, actually followed by the noise of an opening door. 

The man's body went into fight mode, speeding up his breath even more. 

Who would come? What would they do? Would they torture him? Again? Could he survive this? Would they free him from those wires? Or were they just here to watch him dying slowly? 

A few stuttering heartbeats later, the room was lighted up. Paralysed, Tony blinked to adjust to the sudden change, not very successfully. Now his eyes were burning even more. Had he started to cry at some point?

Something fell to the ground, but he could only hear one person. 

The person seemed to be approaching, getting into his sight. 

If the engineer weren't that exhausted, he would have frowned. There was a Clint in front of him, looking at him in a weird way. 

Now he said his name. Yes, he was clearly this time. If Clint would come, he wouldn't be alone, that's for sure. 

Well, Tony liked Clint. He could have worse near-death hallucinations to be honest. 

Even though the engineer's body was still in panic mode as the other man reached for the tape and removed it quickly. 

Tony shouted, not even sure why, until a warm hand pressed against his lips. 

The engineer wanted to fight, to bite and spit, but one more time the reactor flickered for some long moments. 

Tony flinched with the sharp increase of pain, then he went limp again. 

Clint caught the reactor's flicker and felt a stab of panic flaring up inside of him. Years of training allowed him to fight it down and remind himself that he needed to stay clear-headed right now.  
Slowly, he removed his hand from the engineer's lips and whispered: "Okay, I need you to stay quiet, I have no idea how many of these inept morons are still around and I honestly don't want to find out. Come on, let's get you out of here." There was no response, Tony just kept wheezing for air while he hung in his restraints limply. "Hey, buddy, 'fraid I'll need you awake now. Come on, Tony, please, it's me." 

_Those fucking bastards._ There were tear streaks drawing their trails on the inventor's cheeks, intermingling with blood, dirt and cold sweat, and he didn't really seem to hear anything that Clint said. 

Fuck, but he needed him conscious. 

"A little help here, buddy? How do I get these cables off? Because I'd really hate to break your heart, you know? Shit, you're really not here or you would've kicked me out for that joke. Fuck."  
Carefully and desperately hoping that he wasn't doing the wrong thing, Clint laid one hand onto Tony's chest to hold him still, feeling the shorter man tremble underneath his fingers. With the other hand, he took hold of the cables, closed his eyes for a second to gather himself, and then pulled at the wire. 

After some agonizing seconds, it came loose, although it made Tony jerk and groan in pain. 

"Sorry," Clint whispered, dropping the cable to the floor. "Just the smaller ones now. I've got you, you'll be fine. Just hold on for a bit longer, okay?"

The Clint seemed nice. He wasn't yelling or angry at him. He didn't call him names or hurt him too much. 

He even got rid of that duct tape. 

Tony was sure the Clint was talking to him, too, but he couldn't understand. But that was okay, the sound of the familiar and safe voice helped to endure the choking pain and fear. 

Then, there was another touch. The hand was warm and reminded Tony of the fact that he was still trembling like hell, or at least as much as his position allowed him. 

The hand restrained him even more and the panic returned full force. 

Maybe Clint wasn't so nice after all? 

Again there was pain, sharp pain, mind-blowing pain. It felt like the Clint tried to rip out his reactor without caring about the proper mechanism. 

This time Tony didn't cry, not because he didn't want to, but because everything he could manage was a groan. 

It felt like it lasted for a lifetime. And then a bit longer after the pull vanished. 

The engineers chest was on fire, icy, sharp fire. Again, he felt like he couldn't breathe. A crushing weight on his lungs. 

Right when Tony was a bit better the Clint did it _again_. Even if it wasn't as intense as the first time, it was enough to pull the man back into the state of near unconsciousness. 

He didn't even felt that much when the ropes were cut and the last thing that kept him upright was gone. 

The whole world was a blur. Tony didn't care. It should just stop. The pain should stop, the world should stop. 

Clint used a small, sharp pocket knife to cut the restraints loose. Tony was silent apart from quiet whimpers and something that sounded almost like a choked sob when he slumped into the last rope. 

The archer had never seen Tony like this before and it was almost scary. 

He cut the last of the ropes and caught Tony with an arm around his middle when he just collapsed, seemingly boneless. 

"You almost did it. C'mon, buddy, just bear with me here, okay?" He pulled Tony's arm around his shoulders and groaned with the effort of keeping them both upright. The engineer was a lot fucking heavier than he looked like when he was halfway unconscious like this. 

Clint dragged them both towards the door. Seeing the gun he had dropped there, he quickly decided that it couldn't hurt to be armed and knelt down to pick it up. Tony just sunk to his knees next to him, apparently still not aware of his surroundings. 

Just when the archer's hand closed around the handle, a sharp voice rang out through the room: "Stop moving, let Stark go and drop the gun!" 

"That's a lot of demands," Clint remarked, slowly glancing up at then two men in front of him. They weren't the ones he had left at the door and looked a lot more threatening than anyone else he had encountered in this facility so far. 

If he let go of the gun now, they'd undoubtedly kill him and hook Tony back up to the machines. The only way to prevent this was using Tony himself. 

_I'm so sorry_ , Clint thought. Suddenly, he desperately hoped that Tony didn't notice what happened around him. 

With a swift movement, he raised the gun - not aiming at the men, but Tony, the muzzle clanking against the glass of the reactor cover with a metallic thud. 

"You either want Stark's knowledge or this thing here," he stated with fake calmness. "You come one step closer, I'm gonna put a bullet right through the reactor and you're not getting either of those."


	2. Chapter 2

The world didn't stop spinning around him. His stomach felt like he had been punched too hard and twisted sickly. 

Tony wanted to press his hands against it, now that he was free of the ropes, but his body didn't react. He wanted to raise his hands to protect his failing arc-reactor, but everything was too heavy. The Clint had a grip on him, maybe he should thank him, the floor would have been uncomfortable.

On the other hand, the engineer didn't want to be touched. Not more pain. 

They were moving. Apparently. The world did funny things and the light was way too bright. Tony closed his eyes, drifting in and out of consciousness.

There was floor under his knees. Something changed, but the man only opened his eyes again when another sharp wave of pain buzzed through his chest.

He was kneeling right beside the Clint. Again, there were words, not only from his hallucinated teammate but from other men. Tony couldn't move his head to look at them. He couldn't even keep himself upright without the arm around his middle.

So why was there this pain? Someone messing with the reactor again?

Since his head hung limply at his chest, the man just had to focus a bit to see his heart device.

There was a gun. Someone was pointing a gun at his reactor. The Clint hat pushed a loaded gun against his most vulnerable point.

Now, Tony felt really sick. His body retched instinctively, but nothing happened. He didn't care.  
When even his own hallucinations were working against him, why would he care?

Maybe Tony just wished the Clint was real. Then he could just shoot Tony and free him. That would be very nice, he thought.

There was no reaction from Tony apart from a short glance out of dulled brown eyes. Clint took it as a sign that he wasn't present enough to realise the threat and looked back up at the men in front of them.

"Yeah, as if you'd shoot your teammate," one of them snorted.

Clint looked him dead in the eye, not a hint of humour in his voice as he responded slowly: "Try me."

"You didn't come all the way here to kill him now, so cut it out and put the gun down." 

"You're right, it's not what I came here for, but if it saves my ass, I'm absolutely willing to give him another hole in the chest. As I said, come on. Try me." 

There was a moment of silence between them, only broken by Tony's laboured breathing. Clint had no idea what he was actually playing at; there was nothing he could do without endangering both Tony and himself. He was stalling, but for what? Some great flash of inspiration? A suddenly forming master plan?

Whatever. He had to keep talking. Slowly, he rose to his feet, pulling Tony up with him. 

"Believe it or not, I've worked in this field before and people usually like their assets alive." He smirked without an ounce of humour. "What they don't normally care about, however, are their henchmen." 

With another wordless _sorry_ towards Tony, he dropped the engineer and fired his gun, hitting one of the goons right between the eyes before he dove to the side. The second man cursed, startling, released a bullet that grazed Clint's arm as he fell. The archer shot once, twice, and then the second man collapsed on the floor.

 _Well, at least everybody knows I'm here now_ , Clint thought sarcastically, picking himself from the floor.

"Come on, Tony, we need to get going," he gritted out, trying to ignore the pain in his arm.

Tony felt himself falling to the ground, when the Clints arm left his side. There were gunshots, three or four, the man didn't care enough to count. Instead, he tried to curl around his Arc-reactor, to lock everything else out. If he just lay here, no-one could touch his heart again. That seemed to be a good idea.

The men were fighting his hallucination, but it didn't take very long. Soon all were lying on the ground, maybe they were dead. Tony couldn't look up, he kept his head against his bleeding chest.

Distantly, he wondered where he was bleeding, if something was wrong with the reactor's rim. On second thought, what was not broken with it at the moment?

It wasn't enough. The engineer couldn't curl up as tightly as he wanted to, his limbs were still shaking badly and feeling lifeless. But that was good, in that way, it didn't hurt as much.

The blue light flickered again, Tony managed to keep his pain nearly silent this time. He just laid on the ground, feeling cold and more than miserable, couldn't even gather the energy to find proper words for his situation.

Apparently the Clint was still alive, he fought himself back into an upright position. _Can hallucinations die?_ The man heard the familiar voice again speaking to him, but it was a blur. Why didn't they leave him alone?

"C'mon, Tony," Clint pleaded quietly. The engineer was curled up on the floor, shaking badly and pale as death. When the archer grabbed his shoulders to make him sit up, he also felt terribly cold to the touch. Cursing quietly, Clint shrugged the coat off of his shoulders, _sorry, Steve_ , and urged: "Hey, I know you can hear me." He really didn't, but talking felt good. Being silent would make him feel like he was tending to a corpse with the coldness of the inventor's skin and the lifeless expression in his eyes.

He managed to push Tony's hands into the sleeves and buttoned the coat up with one hand while the other held the man upright. With the coat's far too broad shoulders and the long sleeves, it dwarfed Tony even more, but it was better than nothing, at least. Trying to go for encouraging, he muttered: "There we go, that looks much better. Now get up, would you? I don't think I can manage this all on my own. I'll need your help here." With a strained noise, he lifted them both up from the floor and tried to find a position that would allow him to hold both Tony and the gun.

Internally, he cursed himself for leaving the earpiece in the car. He could really have used some support from the team right now, especially since Tony was more of a burden than a co-fighter right now.

"We're gonna get you out of here, I swear," Clint promised. "Just, in case you do hear me, try to walk a little bit, yeah? That's pretty straining all on my own."

The Clint forced him out of his safe position and pushed him around a bit. Tony tried to find out what was going on. Oh, there was a coat, it wasn't there earlier. The cloth was nice, it made the engineer less cold and prevented him from seeing the reactor any longer.

He didn't want to be warned every time the pain would increase, _thank you_.

The coat was too big, something Tony would usually find uncomfortable, but right now, it was kind of soothing. He could nearly hide himself in it, feeling a bit like in a cocoon. Not as good as curling up, but warm.

During the whole process, Clint was there, murmuring incomprehensible words and sentences. Tony would be very interested in what he was saying, but everything was so far away, he couldn't reach the outside world, he stayed where he was. Could be worse. 

The man's stomach flipped badly when the hallucination pulled him up onto his feet, leaving him even more sick and disoriented.

Something in his mind finally noticed that he was free, he just had to run out of this room and everything would be okay. Tony tried to make a step, but his legs wouldn't move, he still couldn't quite feel them. It felt funny, and not the good kind, when he concentrated on his limps.

The Clint started moving and dragged Tony with him; even though they were going slow, he felt like he would fall over any second.

Tony was more stumbling than walking when they left the room, leaning heavily on Clint. The archer was struggling to keep them both upright and move at the same time; the arm that the bullet had grazed, which was also the one he held the gun with, hurt like hell and he could feel blood running down his bare skin. Now that the coat was draped over Tony's cold form, the temperature down here made him shudder and the thought that the engineer had been trapped down here for hours caused him nausea. He couldn't see the arc reactor anymore, but hoped that it was running smoothly now that it wasn't hooked up to the power-draining machines anymore.

Slowly, they made their way towards the exit. Clint took a deep breath as they stepped out into the hallway - and froze on the spot when he was faced with a dozen gun muzzles aimed at him.

 _Okay. This looks bad._ Maybe these guys weren't as utterly clueless as they had first seemed.

"Alright," Clint spoke up, "I know that you could totally shoot both me and this guy here, but I'd be willing to bet that I'd be able to take more than half of you with me."

There was a snort from his 'audience', followed by: "Yeah, sure. You're a bit cocky for the position you're in, aren't you?" 

"I've been in worse," the archer said with a shrug and glanced at Tony, who was still hanging over his shoulder almost lifelessly. "What do I get if I win?" 

A new, female voice chimed in: "You'd still be dead, you moron." 

Clint's gaze snapped up to the staircase's upper end just as Natasha fired two shots from the guns in her hands, causing two men in the crowd to collapse. 

After that, everything was chaos. Steve's shield ricocheted from a wall and hit one goon in the chest, Vision did his dramatic swooping-in-thing and Sam, without his wings, appeared behind Natasha. After the first few seconds of shock, Clint joined in and between the five of them, the conflict in the confined space of the stairway was over in less than a minute.

"Look who got their heads out of their asses," Clint muttered to Tony, not minding that he probably didn't understand a word from what he said. "What, you found a battle plan now? Glad you could come," he remarked sarcastically. So he was in a bad mood, sue him, he'd been shot. "Is somebody gonna help me getting him out of here? He's heavy when he's like this."

More people. A lot more people.

Slowly Tony was getting closer to awareness of his surroundings. There were guns, pointing at him and the Clint. At least it seemed to be. The engineer fought back to conciousness, he should help. He was better than before, he told himself.

In the next moment there were more people, talking to Clint. Natasha, Steve, Vision and Sam. Tony frowned, maybe he wasn't better yet. The hallucinations seemed to get worse. 

_Or... They could be real?_ The men were defeated in no time and the other Avengers, real or not, were coming closer. 

Tony tried to say something, but his body still wasn't reacting very well. That was why he only managed an exhausted groan.

Steve grabbed his shoulders and held him upright while Clint loosened his grip. The engineer felt uneasy with that, although the Captain and himself were getting along a lot better than at the beginning.

Now that Tony was more himself than before he could muster Clint, apparently no product of his desperate and panicking mind. He looked like hell, too. The archer wore his mission outfit, was wounded and a bit wrecked and oh, someone shot him too.

Tony felt how he was lifted and started to struggle. He would not accept Cap carrying him! 

On the other hand, he still wasn't able to move and could sleep for a a few hours without any problem. 

Nevertheless... 

Tony felt a new wave of cold air washing over his body, but it felt different. They were outside, the engineer could see the night-black sky above him. He really hoped it would clear his mind some more. Slowly, Tony was able to make out what the others were talking about.

"Steve, let me see that." Was that Natasha speaking?

And a few moments later two pale hands opened the coat and exposed him and the reactor to all the others. Tony wanted again to curl back up on himself, even though he was now a lot calmer than before. Natasha touched his heart fast and functional. It hurt like shit.

The engineer hissed and shifted again in Steve's arms. Eventually, she stopped touching him and he was more than grateful for that.

Clint gritted his teeth when Natasha bandaged his arm tightly after she had checked up on Tony. They'd have some real doctors back at the Avengers headquarters, but for now, this would be enough.

He practically collapsed on the backseat of the car the others had brought as the adrenaline died down slowly. When he saw Steve moving Tony towards the front seat, he demanded: "No, give him to me." The soldier paused and looked at him questioningly. Rolling his eyes, he patted the spot next to himself. "Put him here. He can't sit straight anyway, you can't put him in the front of the car right now. Just give him to me."

He had no idea where his sudden protectiveness came from; probably from the fact that he had still not quite forgiven the team for not coming sooner. If he had waited until their 'plan' was ready, Tony might as well be dead by now.

"Alright," Steve conceded and rounded the car so he could set Tony down next to Clint. The archer reached over, pulled the engineer closer and buckled them both up before he gently tugged at Tony's coat to make him lean against his shoulder. After a bit of shuffling for a comfortable position, he had one arm looped around the inventor's waist between his back and the seat, the other one was ready to catch Tony in case he fell forward or anything like that.

Quietly, he murmured into the inventor's ear: "Hey, are you with us again?" He pointedly ignored the look that Natasha sent him through the rear mirror.

At the point when Clint demanded that Tony would sit beside him, he was actually able to comprehend his surroundings enough to frown about that. It sounded a bit like a child who wanted his doll back or something.

But the engineer had to admit that his teammate was probably right, he still felt like a broken rag doll, without any kind of body control. It was fucking great. But he was happy that his mind started to function again, so it could be worse.

It felt safe. Tony tried to convince himself that it was due to the fact that the team came to rescue him, but in fact the ability to lean on Clint did that all by itself. The man felt embraced by the archer, protected and finally really warm, ready to fall asleep every second.

There was nothing to fear about that, because Clint would catch him, but he wanted to stay awake until he was back at home.

 _Yeah, I am._

No words came out but Tony managed rub his head against the fabric under him. Now that he thought about this, it must have looked very weird, but he could later blame the circumstances. And blow the person up who would start teasing him about his condition. He felt like a child and couldn't even guess why. Tony would work through that after a bit of rest.

For now, he would just ignore the world and regain his normal serenity.


	3. Chapter 3

The small nod that Clint could feel against his shoulder gave him a surprisingly strong feeling of relief. It wasn't much, but at least Tony seemed to be back in the land of the living. 

The ride back to base was spent in tense silence; although he paid attention to keeping his grip on Tony nothing but gentle and reassuring, he was still radiating a quiet, brooding sort of anger at the three other Avengers in the car. Sam sat on Tony's other side on the back seat, Vision was flying ahead.

And yes, Clint was pissed at them for letting it come this far. He knew the protocols, but especially from Natasha, he would have expected some willingness to act outside of the box.

When the car pulled into the garage, Clint leaned down, not sure if Tony had fallen asleep or not, and murmured into his ear: "We're gonna get you looked at by doctor Cho. Do you think you can walk or should Cap carry you again?"

Tony took a few seconds to debate if the little bit of feeling that had returned in his body was enough to give walking a try.

 _What is more embarrassing, being carried of falling out of a car?_

Tony moved his head, now to look into Clint's face. It didn't go too well because his eyes were still unfocused. The engineer tried to form some words but failed, again. He maybe was a little bit annoyed. What had those dumb people done? Tony gritted his teeth and pressed out with a lot of effort: "Try." 

Stubbornly, the man climbed, or maybe stumbled, out of the car, supported by Clint. It was a short distance to the meeting point with Dr. Cho, he could make it. Halfway before he could reach the door, Tony's legs went numb again, but he didn't care. He was Iron Man, he could do something like this! 

So the engineer ignored the nausea and recurrent dizziness and just moved forward. He could do it.  
 _Feels a bit like walking blindly. So nothing new to me._ But no drunk experience was able to teach him how to deal with such an issue.

Clint noticed how Tony's steps became more uncertain by the minute. Tightening his grip around the shorter man's waist, he took a little more of his weight without making it obvious to the rest of the team. He knew the inventor's pride, after all.

Steve opened the door for them and they made their way down the hall towards the elevator and Clint pretended to be exhausted so he could lean against a wall - it wasn't quite lying, but mostly, it was for Tony's sake. He didn't feel like the shorter man was going to stay on his feet for much longer. 

The team of doctors in the Avengers HQ was a trusted group of few, hand-selected persons. All of them had been taught basic knowledge about each of the team members specific... specialities, such as the serum and its effects in Steve's and the reactor in Tony's case. 

Dr Cho awaited them when the elevator opened on the medical floor and Clint led Tony over towards the room she held open for them. 

"Vision told me," she said curtly. "Bring him in, lay him down." 

And then there was Clint again, holding him safe and upright. Tony should really thank him later. Maybe build him some own wings like Falcon's. _You know, just better._

The engineer was very glad that he could lay down, but he wasn't that happy about people touching his reactor again. Even if he was now calm enough not to fall into a panic attack again, he was more than uncomfortable with that. 

Only few people were allowed to be in contact with his heart. 

Dr. Cho stripped him out on the coat and took away the bandage at his shoulder. Tony could guess why she didn't start with the reactor, but as unwilling he was to admit, it was the most urgent problem. 

And well, wasn't it fitting that the device chose that moment to flicker again? 

Tony shifted, growling on the treatment couch, trying his best not to curl up around the pain. In these circumstances, the engineer couldn't get the words the other two were exchanging, but in the next moment, Cho hooked his reactor to something. 

Tony did everything to keep calm. Everything was okay, nothing to fear except for death by cardiac arrest. 

Something pathetic inside of himself felt the urge to take a hold on Clint. But the archer got treated by one of the other medics across the room. 

Clint gritted his teeth while the young doctor at his side disinfected the bullet wound and sewed it shut with a few stitches. He kept his eyes fixed on Tony, who looked distinctly uncomfortable, but maybe that was good; at least, the lifeless expression from before was gone. Clint would rather have him look afraid than like a walking corpse. Everything was better than that mindless look of distant panic from before.

The thought made him shudder, which the medic misinterpreted as an expression of pain. Clint brushed his offer to give him pain meds off with a shake of his head and, as soon as the man would let him go, made his way over to where they kept Tony. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Steve getting treated - he hadn't even noticed that the Captain had been injured. Well. Serum. He'd live. 

Not disturbing Dr Cho, who was typing something at the machine that she had hooked the reactor up to, he pulled up a chair with his good arm and sat down next to Tony's bed so he could ask softly: "Hey there. Feeling better?" 

Dr Cho was running a diagnosis of the arc-reactor damage while his electromagnet was powered by an outside source. Tony didn't like it, but it was better than suffer those temporary cardiac arrests any longer. 

He still managed to keep his breath even and was calculating how long it would take to recreate Badassium. Because he knew what was wrong with the reactor. It ran out of energy, not surprising after being drained of it for several hours. Had it been hours? He wasn't that sure about the time in that room, his few memories were already fading away. Tony was relieved about that. He really didn't need more kidnapping memories, _thank you_.

The engineer glanced at Cho's monitor. Maybe there was some minor damage at the casing and some wires inside, but nothing spectacular. He could fix it as soon as he could return to his workshop.

Now that his heart wouldn't stop any moment, Tony wanted the woman to say something about his moving problem. Then, she should cure it and let him go. But she didn't. She just typed into her machine, ignoring him.

Tony heaved a soundless sigh of annoyance when Clint came back. Interacting with the outside world was still a pain, but he could manage a bit by now.

"Yes." Tony wished he could talk normally, give a snarky or ironic answer, but he couldn't.  
Being nearly muted was one of the worst punishments given to him. 

But maybe it was a good thing, too. The engineer should be nice to Clint. At least he saved his ass and was a great guy. 

Tony's voice still sounded raspy and Clint let his gaze wander over the inventor's body, wincing in sympathy when he saw the inventor's bloody wrists. Those must hurt like hell; rope burns were a bitch, as he knew from personal experience. Tony's skin was chafed raw and even if he wasn't conscious enough to feel it now, he'd definitely notice it later, especially with clothing on. The same went for his chest where the ropes had been, and he didn't even want to start worrying about the reactor's bloody rim. It was still the sight that scared him the most. 

"'s good," he muttered, not sure what else there was to say. He had to resist the urge to do sappy stuff like brushing Tony's hair back or, god help him, taking the inventor's hand, because Jesus Christ, where the hell was that idea even coming from? He didn't _do_ stuff like that. 

Instead, he leaned back and watched first Dr Cho working, then the second medic who took care of Tony's wrists, chest and the smaller cuts. It made him feel a little useless, but it wasn't like he had anywhere else to be. 

It was weird, Tony could literally feel Clint's eyes on his body, but the most other things he couldn't. Which wasn't so bad at the moment, too. Some of those little kids were treating the smaller cuts while Cho was still doing useless things on her machine.

"Lemme do it," growled the engineer as exasperatedly as he was able to.

Cho turned around, giving him one of those _shut up I'm your doctor_ -looks. "Mr. Stark you aren't even able to speak clearly let alone move," she reminded him sceptically.

"Why?" Tony really wished it wasn't such a pain in the ass to get words out. And it didn't even sound as angry and demanding as it was intended. But at least those kids hurried up bandaging his wounds.

"I can only assume that the over-discharge damaged the reactor more than it looks like. But I am certain that the sulfation of the freed electrons in your bloodstream are causing your actual problems."

Tony frowned, that made sense. He should have thought about this. 

"I will treat you with some activated carbon and after that, you should be able to move normally again." That was relieving, but still annoying. That would mean that he had to remove the old reactor as soon as possible to provide further intoxication. _Hello again, car battery..._

Clint would probably feel less dumb if he had understood even half of what Dr Cho had said about the reactor. Well, Tony would know what to do, right? Clint had done the rescue mission, that was what he was there for. The mechanic would handle everything else. He wasn't useful when it came to that.

Now that he thought about that - yes, it was probably weird to keep sitting at Tony's bedside, wasn't it? He had gotten him out of there, he had seen to the inventor getting treated, it was time for him to back off. He wouldn't want to seem clingy or otherwise... weird. 

He got up, brushing his vest off, and excused himself quietly before he quickly strode out of the room. 

And outside, _of course_ , waited Natasha, immediately pushing away from the wall when she spotted him. Briskly and in a tone that didn't allow objections, she stated: "We need to talk." 

"'s not like I can stop you," Clint murmured, already having an idea what this was gonna be about. 

"You can't just go in there and stage a rescue mission without any data on what you're facing just because you've got a stupid crush on Stark," the assassin snapped quietly while they walked down the hall side by side. 

_Here we go_. "I do not," Clint responded, emphasising the last word, "have a crush on Stark. He's my teammate and I didn't want him to get killed because y'all were too busy taking care of formalities." 

"Keep telling that to yourself, but you're endangering your life and I'm not having that," Natasha responded sharply. 

"I was fine!" the archer contradicted. 

"If by 'fine', you mean 'trapped with a dozen of guns aimed at me', then yes, you were fine," she said ironically. 

Clint jabbed the elevator button harder than was probably necessary and turned to face his friend as he replied: "Look, he survived, I survived. You can make a fuss outta this or let it rest. We can't change what happened, no matter how much you lecture me." 

"I can't change what happened," Natasha agreed, "but I might be able to change what's going to happen. If you run off like that again, we might not be there in time to get you out." Upon Clint's stubborn glare, her gaze softened and she squeezed his arm a few inches under the bullet wound. "I care about you, you know that. I'm not doing this for the sake of being right, I want to make sure you stay safe."

Clint sighed, leaning back against the wall. "I know. But you saw the state he was in, I don't think he would've made it if we had waited any longer. I certainly don't want to find out." He stepped into the elevator. "I'm gonna take a nap. Wake me up for the debrief." 

Tony flinched slightly when Clint stood up in a sudden movement and was heading out after a quick excuse. Some part of the engineer would have appreciated if the other man had stayed with him. 

The only other person despite the medical staff in the room was Steve, who was busy with assuring his nurses that he was indeed fine. 

Tony concentrated on himself again, Cap wasn't something he wanted to deal with right now. The most important thing was to change to his usual self again, talking and moving, but that was something he had to be patient about. And Tony Stark wasn't patient. 

Dr. Cho placed some pills on the night stand and turned her attention back on the actual arc reactor. Even though the engineer was well aware about what would be following, he shuddered when the woman's hands extracted his mechanical heart from its casing. It took only a few seconds to hook the external battery back up to the main board, the instinct to stop her was nevertheless present. 

Suspiciously, Tony followed Cho's movements while she took the reactor away and placed it somewhere out of his sight. He was not okay with someone else having the hands on his heart's technology anymore. Too many bad experiences. 

"I'll repair it myself."

The doctor gave him another look, but accepted. "You have to stay here at least 3 hours after taking your meds. After that you can go to your room and rest. No engineering before tomorrow after lunch, the battery will be enough till then." Cho disappeared without waiting for him to argue. Not that Tony would have enough energy left for it anyway.

He just had one problem, he couldn't move enough to take the carbon pills himself. The man's glance wandered back to Steve and he sighed soundlessly.

Clint stepped out of the elevator, a little clueless about what he was going to do now. He was tired, he had a whole day with first the Avengers-mission and then his little solo operation had made that certain, but he knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep now, so there was no need to try now.  
He sighed. He had a desperate need to shower, but with the freshly made stitches, he knew that he really shouldn't. God, being injured was so fucking annoying. Nothing new to him, but still so damn irritating.

In the end, he cleaned himself up with a wash cloth as thoroughly as possible before flopping down on the bed in nothing but sweatpants, his gaze fixed at the ceiling and his limbs splayed out. 

_I'm not crushing on Tony goddamn Stark._

With a huff, he threw an arm over his eyes and hoped that he would fall asleep soon. He deserved it, didn't he? He wasn't going to lose sleep over Natasha's misplaced assumptions. Nope. Not happening.

Some embarrassing minutes later, Tony laid back on the treatment couch, grumpily staring at the ceiling.

Steve nodded him goodbye and headed out to his quarters. Or to Fury. The engineer didn't care enough to debate what would be more realistic. 

Tony cursed Cho inside for leaving him like that. But on the other hand... The man managed a wicked smile, now, there was no one left who would stop him from leaving. All the other members of the medical staff had left as soon as Steve had come to help him.

Grinning, Tony tried his limbs again, noticing that it got indeed better every minute. Or maybe it was the placebo effect.

After a few moments of remembering how to move properly, the engineer grabbed his external battery with the left and one of the crutches with the right hand. 

No one could stop him. There was no way Tony Stark would lay in this room for hours without something to do. No way.

SHIELD should know that.

After some minutes of fruitlessly trying to sleep or not to think of Tony, Clint got up again and decided that something in his achingly empty stomach might help him to settle down. Other than in the Avengers Tower, they didn't have whole floors to themselves here; the rooms were big enough and didn't lack anything, but they all shared one kitchen. Well, like that, at least Clint didn't have to worry about forgetting to stack the fridge.

He rolled off the bed gracelessly, clumsy with exhaustion, and considered putting on a shirt, but it was unlikely to meet anyone who was still up at this hour and the place was heated well enough, so Clint made his way to the kitchen on bare feet and in sweatpants. 

Tony had to admit that he maybe should have waited a bit before fleeing from the medical ward. Because now, he was exhausted, not even halfway to his room and he wasn't able to go on. Fantastic.

Hoping that no one would enter this hallway soon, the engineer slid down the wall making himself as comfortable as possible. It was pathetic that he couldn't manage to reach his quarters, but even more that he just now noticed that he left his arc reactor on the table. And he wasn't able to go back either.

All Tony could do was sit here and wait that either he would recover enough to go on, or that someone would pick him up. The engineer huffed in annoyance and leaned further back to reduce the strain on his chest.

Absently, he played with the battery. It reminded him of Afghanistan, not so much of the torture but of the building of the first arc-reactor with Yinsen. Tony tried not to think about that man so often, those memories were hurting in a very different way than the ones about the water boarding.  
Tony came abruptly back to himself when he heard footsteps heading in his direction.

Tiredly, Clint padded through the corridor. It was only dimly lit, just enough to ensure that nobody would bump against a wall or something; not that seeing was a problem for him. 

He would have spotted the figure on the floor way sooner had he paid any mind to his surroundings. Like this, it took him a moment and blinking several times before he spoke up: "Tony? Alright, something tells me that you're not supposed to be here. Might be the fact that you're, you know, collapsed in the middle of a corridor. Dude, that thing looks like it's from some horror movie, it's not staying like that, is it? God, I'm talking too much, aren't I? Where's all of that even coming from?" He cleared his throat. "Anyway. I was going to grab something to eat and you don't look like you're going anywhere anytime soon. Wanna join me?" 

Tony glared up into Clints face. It was unusual that the archer started babbling, that was something he tended to do himself. He wanted to send his teammate away, because _yeah, thanks, you aren't that helpful_ , but his presence was actually a relief. 

"Sort of battery. 'Till reactor is repaired." Tony made a weak gesture towards the hole in his chest. "Would love to join. Bring here?" The engineer was sure Clint understood that he wasn't exactly in shape to make it to the kitchen.

Tony's hand fell into his lap. He didn't want to accidentally touch his empty chest, it provoked unnecessary panic he wanted to avoid. 

"Isn't that a bit cold, I mean, with you all shirtless and everything?" Clint asked, then noticed that it wasn't like he was wearing much himself, so he just shrugged. "I mean, I can bring food, of course, but I could just help you into the kitchen." He sat down on his haunches next to Tony. "Any idea how long it's going to take to repair that? Because I definitely don't mean to be rude, but you, with a hole in your chest? That's slightly unsettling. Just saying. And I bet carrying this thing around can't bee too pleasant either."

Tony wasn't really sure if he wanted to be touched again in this intimate way. Normally he wasn't that sensitive about that anymore, but after the recent situation, including his exhausted condition, things were different.

On the other hand he couldn't keep sitting here forever or, more precisely, until he was strong enough to get up by himself. "Yeah, maybe kitchen is better." His words were barely more than a whisper but Clint was near enough to understand well. 

Tony debated whether or what he should response to the arc-reactor topic and looked down at the mentioned hole. There was a time he was a lot more self-conscious about his whole history than now. Tony was okay with Clint saying such things. He was right.  
"Cho allowed starting tomorrow." The engineer managed a little smirk. "So, tonight?"

"Wait, what?" Clint blinked at Tony, taking in the mischievous smirk while his words replayed in his head. "I'm not sure you're permitted- oh. _Oh_." He slapped a hand against his face. "Arc reactor. Of course." He might have been blushing slightly before, but now he had to be as red as a traffic light. _God dammit, Barton._ "Don't listen to me, it's midnight and I'm tired. Food, then reactor, got it. And I'll be shutting up now."

To say that Tony was surprised would be an understatement. Had Clint misunderstood what Tony thought that he had misunderstood?

It was very rare to see the confident agent blushing, the engineer could count the times he was present on one hand, another reason to be satisfied by the sight. 

"Oh Barton, no need to be shy. Enough room for two in the workshop." 

Tony was very pleased that he could manage a few sentences without failing again. 

Still grinning he let himself pulled back to his feet and steadied himself with Clint's shoulders. Suddenly, there was no discomfort anymore with the other man touching him. The archer was still embarrassed. 

Tony's weight against his side didn't do anything to ease Clint's blush, so he might as well go along with it. _Still not crushing on Stark._

"You offering?" he asked with a cocky grin, trying to smooth over his stammering from before. "I don't know, you think it would be worth to risk getting strangled by Dr Cho later? Because you'd have to be pretty damn good for that." 

It wasn't like Tony was opposed to a little flirting. The guy was known to hit on pretty much anything that moved, so he wouldn't take a few jokes from Clint too seriously, right? 

The little teasing eased the tightness in Tony's chest. 

"Well, you'll have to try for yourself." 

He gave his best to send Clint a look with the eyebrow mockingly raised, but it wasn't that convincing while leaning heavier than before on the other one.

Slowly, Tony's limbs started shaking again, he hated himself for the weakness. He was glad that the archer didn't comment on that further until they reached the kitchen. 

Tony grabbed a cup of coffee, wondering who if his teammates had cooked it recently because it was still warm. 

"I'll get back to you on that," Clint vowed belatedly while opening the fridge. "We still have some leftovers from the Thai stuff that Steve made yesterday. It's either that or sandwiches."

He looked over his shoulder at Tony, who had treated himself to a cup of coffee in the meantime. The mechanic did still look pale, but it was already a far cry from the state that Clint had found him in. He looked tired, but, apart from that, fine.

Well, if one ignored the gaping hole in his chest, that was.

To be honest, Tony wasn't really hungry. Even if the adrenalin was mostly vanished, the memory of the fear still lingered in the back of his mind. His stomach was still in knots and alone the thought of food made him feel slightly sick again.

"Sandwich?" he asked absently while taking a few deep breaths. It was very odd how different his body felt without the arc reactor.

The energy of the reactor felt bright and fresh, a very nice and he preferred it over the metallic, bitter taste of the car battery.

"Sandwich it is," Clint nodded. "Any specific wishes for the toppings or should I just throw something together?" He filled a plate with food from the day before and placed it in the microwave before he began to butter up slices of bread, waiting for Tony's answer.

"Just... Something..."

Tony hoped that Clint wouldn't mind his absent state. But at that moment everything seemed less important.

The engineer caught himself fumbling on the wire of the reactor. It was unsettling to feel this important "lifeline" so open and more vulnerable than normally. 

Clint finished a simple sandwich, careful to put nothing on it that could upset Tony's stomach - he'd been dealing with post-mission-illnesses for years now, he should be able to not poison the engineer.

Setting the table with the sandwich down in front of Tony, he asked carefully: "Are you sure that you're up to building something right now that's supposed to keep you alive? Because you look like you're about ready to keel over." 

It was true; Tony looked scarily fragile, his shoulders hunched and his fingers toying with the wire running from his chest to the battery, pale and his scarred chest bare. He had to be cold, although Clint was pretty sure that he would never admit to that.

Tony raised his head from the sandwich up to his teammate. 

He seemed to worry in earnest, the engineer felt uneasy. He wanted to growl that he was of course able to repair the arc reactor. He was Tony Stark, it wasn't the first time and would surely not be the last. He wanted to be upset, wanted to make a snarky comment, but he wasn't able to.

Tony only managed to whisper "yeah", before he stopped playing with his makeshift heart.

Clint seemed to care, it was weird. The whole situation was weird, two half-naked avengers, bruised and exhausted. 

Tony tried to think about what was so odd about it, it wasn't the first time he met someone while eating late because he was too occupied with a project to show up at dinner. 

Nevertheless... The engineer grabbed his sandwich. 

Somehow, having Tony agree with him was a lot more unsettling than the protest that Clint had expected. He fetched his plate from the microwave, together with a fork, and sat back down next to Tony.

"Okay, how about I get you into bed, you catch a few hours of sleep and start with the reactor first thing tomorrow? I can cover for you at doctor Cho's, if you want. Tell her I'm taking responsibility, blah blah. I'm an engineer, I've been trained for first aid and stuff," he proposed. 

_Seriously? This is how you're planning to get Tony Stark into your bed?_ he mocked himself, just to go right into defence mode: _Not like I'd want him in my bed for anything else than him getting some sleep. God dammit._

Again, Tony was uncertain how to react. He tried to regain some of his usual cockiness, but his mind was just blank.

"Yeah..." _Wow, Stark..._ "Can you bring me to my room? After eating?" Tony paused. "Not sure if I can make it." 

He hoped Clint would answer a bit louder than before, because there was white noise in his head, increasing and annoying. 

Careful the engineer took a small bite and chewed long and slowly. The archer had managed to use some toppings he liked and weren't that heavy in his stomach.

Clint knew the problems of eating after a mission. Tony was... grateful.

"Of course, no problem," Clint nodded, glad to see that Tony was eating at the very least. That and a bit of rest would hopefully return him to his usual sarcastic self; right now, he really looked like he might just fall face-first onto his plate and fall asleep right there.

Well, rest and food would be one thing, but Clint could only guess how the whole kidnapping trip, no matter how short it had been, must have affected the inventor emotionally. Having the power drained from his very heart - the sole thought made Clint give a full-bodied shudder and he quickly focussed on his food. For a while, nothing but the sound of chewing and the quiet clattering of his fork disrupted the silence in the kitchen. 

After half of Tony's sandwich had vanished, he stopped eating and leaned back slightly. 

His spine popped audibly with his movement, being bound to a metal grid wasn't that comfortable, but it helped again to ease the heaviness of his chest.

Maybe it was just Tony's imagination, just hallucinating this uneasiness because he knew he had a reason to be uneasy. 

Absently the engineer wondered how he was supposed to sleep with the external battery.  
It was so easy to tangle in the wire, and rip it out. Back in the cave, it had been easier, he just hadn't slept. 

Tony stared at the rest of his meal. It got fuzzy right before his eyes and the white noise got more present as long as the silence went on. 

Clint finished his meal quickly, cast a glance at Tony's half-finished sandwich and decided not to pressure the other man into eating anything more. Instead, he took the plate and put it into the fridge, dumping his own into the sink before he returned. 

"Okay then, let's get going, hm?" He slung an arm around Tony's waist and gently pulled the inventor up into a standing position. 

At any other time Tony would have been very upset to be handled like a doll, despite the caring intentions. But now he was glad about the firm arm holding him and the warmth of the archers skin against his own. It grounded him, made the dizziness acceptable and the white noise bearable.

"Thanks..." mumbled the engineer and meant it. 

Clint didn't answer, Tony wondered if he had heard it in the first place. Maybe he had only said that in his head.

It took a few minutes longer than usual to reach the Avengers quarters. Different than in the tower, they weren't as separated and, in case of an emergency, quick to reach. Tony's thoughts were interrupted when the archer hesitated. They weren't at the engineer's rooms yet. "What's up?" 

Clint glanced down at the emergency energy support and the cable leading to it. 

"You know," he said slowly, "I don't quite... I mean, I don't want to seem like I'm mother-henning you, but..." _Go on, stammer away, Barton. Jesus Christ._ "...to be honest, I'd feel better if I could make sure that you don't rip this thing out in your sleep." He nodded towards the door that he had stopped in front of. "How 'bout you stay the night? The bed is the same in each room, and... yeah, I'd just really like to know that you didn't accidentally ripped the power source for your heart out, that's all."

 _Never heard you so eloquent before. Pull yourself together, your sentences are all over the place_.

Tony glanced at Clint's face. He could feel no mockery, just honest care and friendliness.

"'kay." 

The engineer didn't bother to get upset about his mouth acting without his consent, he would deal with it tomorrow. For now he was glad that he would be able to lie down and get some rest in a few moments. The archer had been right, he wasn't in a state to work with important stuff.

The engineer was used to sleep deprivation and pain, but he hadn't been in a very good shape before the mission and it just got worse.

Clint seemed surprised about his answer, but Tony didn't ask about the why, not now. Together, the two men entered the archer's room, it was as empty as the one of the engineer. Neither of them was at this place so often to decorate. Clint was sent on operations by Fury, sometimes alone, sometimes with Natasha and Tony had an own Tower and some houses to live in.

With a questioning glance, the engineer waited for the other to make a statement about how things would be from now on.

The weight in his hand seemed to get heavier every second and his legs weren't that stable anymore too. It was embarrassing, but Tony had no energy left to complain. 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would be the old Tony Stark again. 

Clint noticed Tony leaning heavier on him than before and steered the shorter man over towards the bed. Carefully, he helped Tony laying down and drew the blanket up and over him. 

"I'll stay awake," he told him, "and watch out that you don't strangle yourself in your sleep with that thing." _Also, I'll inevitably do the creepy stalker thing and watch you sleeping. Nothing I can do about that._ "You try and catch a few hours of sleep, okay?" He laid down on the mattress as well, keeping about an arm's length of distance between himself and Tony so he wouldn't make the inventor uncomfortable.

It was a weird kind of autopilot being active as Tony was helped into the bed. He wasn't really concious but neither was he unconscious. It reminded him a bit of the state of 'I don't care', which he had experienced earlier.

Again the engineers glaze flickers up to Clint's face. The archer was close to him, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

Even if Tony wanted to concentrate on the apparently uncertain agent, sleep already started to pull at him. The cocoon-like warmth of the blanket over his still cold body was soothing and nice.

Tony wanted to ask what was wrong with Clint and why he was offering such a thing. But he couldn't open his mouth.

Just seconds later, the engineers eyes fluttered shut and he was asleep. 

Clint felt himself relaxing when Tony closed his eyes, his breath evening out slowly as he fell asleep.

When he was sure that the inventor was indeed not going to wake up again anytime soon, Clint allowed himself to shift on his side until he found a comfortable position. He snatched a plushy blanket from the side of the bed and curled up under it, pulling it up to his shoulders so he wouldn't get cold.

He forbade himself to close his eyes, though; he couldn't watch out for Tony not getting strangled by the cable if he fell asleep, after all. Worst case scenario, he shifted in his sleep and accidentally ripped the wire out of Tony's chest himself.

No way he was going to let that happen, that wasn't what he had invited Tony over for.  
So he pulled his knees closer to his chest and settled in for a sleepless night, his eyes fixed on the inventor's face. 

_Anecdote by Majinie: Clint misunderstanding Tony's "so, tonight?" was actually ME misunderstanding that and going all "wait, Hikari, what the hell are you saying, we're not at the smut yet!" So since I made that embarrassing mistake, Clint had to make it, too. Naturally._


	4. Chapter 4

Tony opened his eyes slowly and blinked a few times before he was able to orientate himself. The room was still dark, just a small ray of light from the hallway crept under the door into the bedroom.

The engineer wasn't sure what had woken him up, because he was still tired as hell, but he was curious enough to find it out. His wires were all still in place and the battery was lied on the exact same spot as he placed it before going to sleep. _Good, there is nothing worse than wake up dead..._

Tony looked at the man beside him. Clint was curled up around himself, hugging his knees tightly to his chest. The engineer carefully scooted a bit closer to get a better view, but the only thing he could recognize was the archer's short hair. His face was buried between his arms.

 _That position can't be that comfortable..._ Tony frowned slightly. _Didn't he intend to stay awake?_ Then, he remembered that his teammate was certainly as exhausted than he was after two hard missions.

A few minutes later, the billionaire was half asleep again when the mattress began to shift. Just a little bit, but enough to move Tony a bit and interfere with the wires. The man blinked again and inspected the sleeping Clint further.

Was he wrong or was the archer indeed shaking? And to be honest, the position was maybe a bit tense. Tony rearranged himself until he could face his teammate and grabbed the other man's shoulder. Clint was, as all the other agents perhaps, normally a light sleeper, so he hoped that this gesture would be enough to wake him up.

 _The goddamn complex has to end somewhere, right?_

 _Clint opens another door, staring into the dark, empty room behind it. With an angry, frustrated huff, he slams it shut again and hurries towards the next one. He's been in here for what feels like hours and he can't find Tony. He_ has _to be somewhere here, Clint is sure of it, but he can't fucking seem to find him. He has a time limit, doesn't he? There's only so long he is allowed to take, but the hallway appears to be never-ending and no matter how many doors he opens, there is always just empty darkness behind them._

Please, please, please, come on, _Clint begs silently, bursting through door after door after door. In the beginning, he stuck to standard procedure, carefully checking what is in the next room, sneaking so he doesn't get noticed, but now he's just running, his heart pounding away in his throat as he grows more frantic with every step. He can't leave Tony here just because he's too slow and stupid to find him. God, please, no._

 _Feeling about ready to cry, he stumbles through another door, with another empty room behind it, and leans against the door frame. His breath is coming in rough pants and he tries and fails to breathe in deeply._

 _Suddenly, there's a touch on his shoulder and Clint jerks around–_

– and awake, with a gasp for air that felt like he hadn't been breathing deeply in a while. He scanned the room hastily until his eyes fell on Tony and, with a shuddering sigh, he raised a slightly unsteady hand to brush it against the inventor's cheek as he breathed quietly: "You're okay, thank God, you're okay. Fuck."

Only after a few seconds, he realised that he was probably being creepy and let his hand drop to the mattress.

"Sorry, I meant to stay awake," he apologised. "I'm the most fucking useless agent ever. Did I wake you up? I did, didn't I? Sorry."

He had snapped awake pretty quickly after the few seconds of confusion and would probably not fall back asleep anytime soon if his racing heart was anything to go by. 

_Well, at least one perk to the whole thing_ , he thought wryly.

The engineer followed the archer's motions with his eyes, shocked.

Tony knew how it felt like snapping awake after a nightmare, babbling while the fingers of the dream still gripping at the mind.

"No, no... It's okay." The engineer tried to sound comforting and soothing, but he wasn't used to that. "You had a rough day, too. It's okay..."

Tony was glad that he was able to form proper sentences again. Carefully, the man scooted closer, pulling Clint into an awkward hug. He hoped his teammate wouldn't mind that the wires were pressing between their unclothed chests.

"I'm okay, you're okay..."

 _God, Stark. You couldn't think of something better, could you?_

Tony hesitated before he whispered: "Thank you for staying with me."

Clint forced himself to take some deep breaths before muttering against Tony's shoulder: "Yeah. Yeah, of course, no need to thank me. I mean, I did fall asleep instead of watching out for you, so there's _really_ nothing to thank me for." 

He breathed the inventor's scent in with slow, measured breaths - only to calm his pulse, of course. Yeah, okay, _Jesus_ , he was allowed to enjoy someone's closeness when he got it, alright? It was no big deal. It still didn't mean he had to be crushing on the guy, just because they were in his bed, cuddling, shirtless... it all sounded far less harmless when he put it like that.

Whatever. Clint was officially too tired to deal with his brain right now. 

Tony could feel Clint's controlled breaths near his neck, feeling weird and unreal against his skin. He wasn't used to sleeping with someone in the same bed anymore, especially not that closely. As surprising it was for the people around him, he wasn't that big of a cuddler. _Anymore._ Back in the time before Afghanistan, before Pepper, he had sex and then went into his workshop. No sleepy morning cuddle scenes.

And Pepper, well, while they were in a relationship there were those normal things pairs would do. Holding hands, kisses on the cheek and such things. But even then, it wasn't that much.

"Maybe... nevertheless... thank you..." 

Why did he say that? Tony blamed his still dizzy mind. Then something happened, even if the engineer couldn't notice what it was, and Clint pulled himself out of the other man's embrace and raised out of the bed.

Tony thanking him with that quiet, sincere tone might be the most beautiful thing that Clint had heard in weeks. 

_Oh Jesus, no, it's getting worse_ , the archer thought desperately. _Stop being sappy, seriously._

The moment that Clint felt his eyelids grow heavy again, he pulled every bit of resolve in his body together to force himself to get up. No matter how warm and comforting it had felt, he couldn't risk falling asleep again, especially not that close to Tony. Some simple movements might be enough to rip the wire and he had already failed once tonight.

"'m gonna make myself some coffee," he announced, wrapping the plush blanket around his shoulders. "I'm not above a little cheating." He was about to leave for the kitchen, but stilled his steps once again to add hesitantly: "And, um, thanks. For, um. Yeah." _Admirable, Barton_ , he mocked himself. _Way to impress the super-genius._

Silently, Tony watched Clint going. He couldn't resist the thought that Clint looked a lot more like Thor with that blanket as a cape than his normal self. The engineer grinned slightly and pulled his own blanket a bit closer to his face, burying most of his face in it. The air outside the bed seemed cold, not only because of the poor air condition in the new building, but because of the probably unholy time. 

If Clint would expect him to mock about this night the next day? He seemed so hesitant and ashamed, even if nightmares were a common experience for every Avenger. Rule number one for being an Avenger, you need something to avenge. _Who was it who said that?_ Tony couldn't remember, but it wasn't that important anyway.

God, the engineer couldn't wait for his repaired Arc reactor, those wires made him really nervous. Maybe he wouldn't admit it, but he was glad that Clint had offered to watch out for problems in the night. Tony really should thank him in a proper way tomorrow. Thanking him for the safety to rest.  
 _What could I do...?_

Clint hoped that he wasn't going to run into anybody during his little trip to the kitchen. Not like this, in sweatpants and with a plush blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

With a distasteful grimace, he poured the cold coffee that had remained in the pot into the sink and started to brew a new one.

While the coffee machine began to whir, he leaned against the kitchen counter and scrubbed a hand over his face. A glance at the clock - half past one - made him groan quietly. This was going to be a long night. He better get something to read or he wasn't going to stay awake very long.

The clanking of the mug on the counter sounded unnaturally loud in the silent kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee, shovelled an unhealthy amount of sugar into it and then, after a moment of hesitation, grabbed the whole pot in the other hand. He was gonna need it.

Carefully balancing the items while at the same time trying not to drop the blanket, he made his way back towards his room.

When Tony awoke the next time, he felt a lot more rested than before. Not fully, but more so than usual.

The dimmed morning light highlighted the dusty surfaces of the few pieces of furniture in the room. _Stark, that was really weird. Stop thinking so pseudo-poetic. It's odd._

The engineer checked his temporarily heart before he bothered to look for Clint who wasn't in bed anymore. After inspecting the still intact wires and taking a few measured breaths (it was really unsettling to see a big hole in your chest, regardless of the time that had passed since it was installed) his eyes were searching for his teammate.

The archer sat slumped at the small table, holding onto his cup of coffee like a life line. Next to him was a nearly emptied pot, which was, Tony supposed, the only think that kept Clint awake.

"Hey there."

Clint startled and then waved at Tony. His tired brain took a few seconds before he remembered to hastily take his reading glasses off and put them onto the table, pushing them away together with the book that he hadn't been concentrating on anyway. The team hadn't seen him with glasses before and he planned to keep it that way. 

"Mornin'," he greeted. "Slept well? I'd offer you some coffee, but it's cold and disgusting." He downed the remaining content of his mug anyway with a grimace. "Ugh, nope, not doing that to you."

"Coffee is coffee." Tony grinned and pulled himself out of the comfortable bed. "And yeah, I slept well. Thanks to you." Without the fear of dying in his sleep it was a lot easier to have pleasant dreams, apparently.

With the battery in one of his hands, he went to the table, pouring himself the last bit of coffee into Clint's now unoccupied mug. "I hope you don't mind?" he smirked before downing the cold and disgusting coffee. Tony inspected the book the archer had read and glanced pointedly at the not so well hidden glasses. They seemed to be old and used mindlessly. The frame was bent and wasn't that pretty, too.

"So you're more of an owl than a hawk, interesting." 

"Oh, shut up, I see better from a distance" Clint muttered, swiping the glasses up and shoving them into his pocket carelessly while fighting off a blush. "And you're welcome in my bed anytime." He blinked a few times and then dropped his head onto the table with a groan. "You know what I mean."

He yawned involuntarily and snapped his book shut before he declared: "If you don't plan on going to sleep again, I will. I think I need it."

"Yeah, you really need it." Tony liked teasing his teammates, especially Clint, because he displayed a similar kind of humour. "I'll go to Cho and grab my arc reactor." The engineer smirked again. "So next time we are in bed together it'll be a bit more... comfortable..."

Tony was a lot better today, less dizzy and more concentrated. But he wasn't so naive to think that he was alright now. 

"Good night, Legolas." He patted the man and hurried more or less successful into the medical wing. Now that he was better, he needed something to do and his heart was a nice thing to work with. 

"Maybe when you don't have half a circuit board hanging out of your chest, yeah," Clint muttered, not sure if Tony had even heard it. He had half a mind to just drop his head on the table and fall asleep right where he was, but he knew that he would hate himself for that when he woke up, his back was already pained enough.

With small, tired steps, the archer dragged himself over to the bed and practically collapsed onto it, and despite all the caffeine in his system, he barely had the energy left to draw the blanket over himself that Tony had left before he was drifting off to dreamland.

Tony was really glad that he met none of the Agents or Avengers while heading to the medical wing. When he entered the room, he was greeted by Dr. Cho who wasn't all that happy about him leaving and running through the headquarter with his life bound to an sensible battery. But the doctor knew the Avengers good enough to know when arguing wasn't worth it. Tony Stark would never lay around without doing something. And that was even less likely if he had something important to do.  
So she sighed and handed him the damaged arc-reactor, offering help if he should need a second pair of hands.

But that was out of question for Tony. He wasn't fond of the idea of sharing this intimate moments with someone he didn't really know, except for some work before. The past told him that he shouldn't give people so much power to mess with him. It usually ended badly.

Just a few minutes later, the engineer could finally start repairing the minor but important damage, which had nearly killed him just hours ago. He would never get used to it.

Clint was awoken by the mattress dipping beside him. He groaned and pulled the blanket up over his head, curling up on himself.

"Clint?" Natasha. 

"No," he whined. "Get lost." 

"Time to get up. It's half past twelve." 

Huh. That late already. Still... 

"Don't care. Leave me in peace." 

There was a tug on the blanket. Clint clutched it tighter in protest, trying to block out Natasha's teasing voice. 

"What, you're spending your days moping in bed now like some teenage girl? Is it that bad with Stark?" 

Now, Clint did pull the blanket down to glare at Natasha sleepily. 

"This has nothing to do with Tony," he declared. Well, it was half-true, at least. 

Tony groaned in annoyance when he discovered that he had no way to charge his arc-reactor again. Normally, his new discovered power source was able to recharge itself after a while or with a kick-start from outside, but now, it was too drained.

It was possible to repair the damage at the provisional workshop, but he also had to recreate badassium. Tony bit his lip. He could build a new particle accelerator here, but he wasn't that keen of the people here knowing how to create badassium.

 _Then... A little trip to Malibu..._ After the Mandarin destroying most of his house, he hadn't bothered to fully build a new one. But the lower levels with his workshop was still mostly accessible, even if he told no one to prevent people from looking around.

The engineer packed his heart into one of the aluminium cases SHIELD seemed to like that much. _Maybe I can get away before Cap or Fury come to make the debrief..._

"Yeah, sure," Natasha nodded. She slid up the mattress until she could lean with her back against the headboard as though she owned the place. Clint groaned at the look on her face. He knew it well enough; it indicated a Serious Talk in near future. Near future in this case meaning right about now. Three, two... "Why don't you just pull yourself together and act on this crush you're harbouring?"...and there it was.

"There's no crush," he protested weakly. She merely raised a perfect eyebrow at him and he sighed, trying to push past his weariness far enough to string some sentences together. "Alright, listen up. Reason number one why I wouldn't act on that crush if it were an actual thing, and that should be the only one I need to name because it rules every other argument out anyway, _Tony Stark is not gay_."

"Let me stop you right there," Natasha responded without hesitating for even a second. "Jeez, I can't believe you didn't even properly research before shutting down completely. Just how pessimistic are you? Tony beds men. Take it from me. Or, for heaven's sake, from Google if you won't take my word for it. Argument number one, invalid. Next one, please." 

No. No, Clint hadn't quite processed that one yet. "Come again?" It probably shouldn't surprise him as much as it did, given Tony's reputation. Then again, it wasn't too far-fetched to assume that he would avoid exactly that kind of attention to keep exactly that reputation. Womaniser. Playboy. Not something... not-masculine like sleeping with other men. 

Natasha was laughing quietly at his dumbfounded expression. "How is it that I know that and you, with your supposed inkling for things like that, didn't notice it? I mean, it's not like you really _needed_ an inkling for that, it's all over the internet, for god's sake."

"Well, it's not like I googled him," Clint responded testily. 

"Maybe you should've. He's got his own tag on RedTube." 

"Too much information," the archer decided quickly. Not at this time in the morning. Midday. Whatever. "Ugh, just leave it, I didn't sleep tonight. Just lemme catch a few more hours."

"We're not done yet," Natasha replied with a shake of her head. "Reason number one is invalid. Number two, please." 

With every other person, Clint would have drawn the line there and just rolled over to go back to sleep. He knew that his friend wouldn't let it go, though, so he settled back against the pillows with a heavy sigh: "Fine. Number two. Use your eyes. He's- he's flying around in his armour and develops tech and stuff solely fuelled by caffeine and his goddamn stubbornness, and I'm fighting here with a weapon from the Paleolithic Era." 

"And are, just on a side note, the world's best marksman with that weapon." 

"Paleolithic Era, Nat. I looked it up." 

She heaved a sigh and muttered something under her breath that sounded like "this is going to take a long time." 

Clint just wanted to go back to sleep. 

If Tony had learned something when he was a kid, then that if you act like you have every right to do what you're doing, then most people don't notice. He was rarely proven wrong in that point, more often back then than today (because a kid is a lot more suspicious than a self-confident billionaire) and the engineer was glad about it.

So he strolled through the nearly endless corridors of the poorly designed building, flashing every agent a blinding grin, while heading straight outside. As long as he didn't pass one of the Avengers, Hill or Fury, he would be safe.

Without a functioning arc-reactor, Tony wasn't able to power one of the suits to flee SHIELD, so he had to fetch some of those really fancy SHIELD cars that were parked in the parking lot. Even there, none of the guards seem to mind the engineer driving away military property. Well, Tony wouldn't complain.

He was halfway through leaving Upstate New York until his phone came to life. "You're getting old, Nick," Tony mumbled, happily ignoring the never ending stream of vibration on the passengers seat.

"As far as I can tell, Tony has always been very convinced of his own tech," Natasha pointed out. "Also, I am sure that it was him who made those _Paleolithic weapons_ you're using. So what you're saying that Tony Stark's tech is... not as good as Tony Stark's tech? Because that doesn't make sense to me, to be honest."

Clint groaned quietly, scooting up the mattress until he could lean against the headboard next to the spy. "Nitpicking," he accused. "Could we not have this conversation, please?" 

"Oh, I'm not leaving this alone until I've seen you getting out of this deep, deep pit of denial you're burying yourself in," she replied lightly and the archer sighed, sinking deeper into the pillow on his back. 

"Look, I am your gay best friend. I am supposed to be the one giving you relationship advice while you sit on the sofa, pine and eat ice cream. You're getting this all wrong." 

"You reversed the situation, though. Minus the ice cream." 

"You're the worst best friend ever." 

"It's for your own good." She patted his shoulder in that fondly condescending way of hers, an amused smirk playing around her lips, and crossed her legs at the ankles before folding her arms as well and resuming the previous conversation: "You're saying that you're not good enough for him." 

Clint flinched and stared at the wall ahead. "I didn't say that." 

"You thought it." 

"And if I did?" 

"I'd have to punch you. Cognitive recalibration." 

He huffed. "Not gonna work this time, I'm afraid. Oh, and just for the record: I do still not confirm your suspicion of me having a crush on Tony." 

"Yeah. Sure." 

Growing more and more annoyed, Tony thought about shutting off his phone, because now it got really boring. Did Fury really think that he would pick up? Nope, never going to happen. 

...Tony picked the call up, groaning. "Can't hear you Nick, I'm driving," he called, without giving the spy time to say anything. "Um... In the med wing... I'm driving in the med wing..." Tony grabbed his phone rolling his eyes when Fury started rambling. "If you drop by, bring some flowers, honey bun."

He let out a sigh and disabled the vibration function before he tossed the device back to its place.  
Tony wasn't back to his normal condition yet, he couldn't wait to be his old self again. The engineers gaze flickered to the battery under the passengers seat. Nothing was optimal. But he would fix it. He could always fix everything.

"Seriously. I never said I had one. That was all you," Clint insisted. Natasha was about to reply when she was cut off by an insistent beeping sound from the night stand. The archer glanced at his pager and pressed his hands over his ears with a pitiful whine: "God, please, no, I don't want to be a responsible adult yet, it's too early for this shit. I demand a day off. Or at least a few hours of sleep." 

His friend sighed and reached over, snatching the pager and reading the message displayed on its small screen before she looked down at Clint, who had sullenly curled up around his pillow again. 

"I have a feeling like you might want to read this, actually," she remarked. "It's from Fury. Tony stole a car and is on the road, presumably towards Malibu." 

"Son of a bitch!" Clint cursed. He was out of bed before even finishing the last word, grabbed his shirt from the chair he had thrown it onto and stepping out of his sweatpants to pull on the first pair of jeans he found. In less than a minute, he was fully dressed, armed and halfway out of the door. Before he left, though, he took the few seconds it took to turn around, point a finger at Natasha and threaten: "Not. A. Word." 

Then, he was sprinting towards the garage where they stored their vehicles. He should have expected this, really, Tony running off when he wasn't even remotely okay yet, but well. He hadn't. And of course, it came back to bite him now. 

After a second of hesitation, he grabbed a helmet and mounted a motorcycle. He was wearing a leather jacket anyway, so there wasn't too much that could happen to him - not as much as to Tony, who was somewhere on a highway in America with a fucking car battery in his lap that powered his heart. 

_Genius, my ass_.


	5. Chapter 5

It would be a lie to say that Tony was well enough to take a whole road trip through the states. He wasn't well enough to make a road trip most of the time. No one should let someone sleep-deprived handle a car.

Well, maybe no one should let a kidnapping victim with an injured shoulder and a bad heart condition handle a car, too. But no one was here to stop him.

Resignedly, the engineer headed to the New York City airport. Perhaps he wasn't able to use his suit, but that wasn't his only flying vehicle.

Since the building of the Avengers Tower (the former Stark Tower), he owned a separate tarmac for his private jet, which came in handy now. But there was one thing that he hadn't thought about; his jet wasn't going to be ready when he arrived unannounced like this. 

_This is one of the moments I really miss Pepper._

Tony huffed, that wasn't quite true. He missed the presence of his passionate PA nearly every day. 

Clint was just about to pull out into traffic when he noticed that there was one little detail that he should maybe have thought of: he didn't _actually_ know where Tony was right now and he wasn't going to take a wild guess. He was fairly sure that even a stubborn idiot like Tony was not going to go on a day-long road trip through the United States just because he wanted to his Malibu residence.  
He pulled over to the side and pulled out his phone. Quickly, he dialled the inventor's number and pulled his helmet off once again so he could press the sleek Stark Phone to his ear, praying to all the deities he didn't believe in that Tony would pick up. 

Tony sent his phone an exasperated look. Did Fury still try to call him? He had really thought the director was smarter than this.

The engineer didn't even bother to get his phone anymore, he just wanted to get back to normality. As normal his normality with occasional alien attacks and Demi-gods was, of course. 

Tony just wanted to point out that sitting in an crowded airport with an car battery on his lap, wearing a not completely closed jacket wasn't his idea of normality. 

_Come on? Go! Don't you have something important to do?_ Tony snarled inwardly to every one who started staring at his bare arc reactor casing.

He wasn't that self-concious of it anymore, but far away from being comfortable from exposing his vulnerable point to the public eye. 

_Just another hour, Stark, just one... Then you're out of here..._

Admittedly, Clint wasn't overly surprised when Tony didn't answer his call. Still, he was muttering quiet curses while he dialled Natasha's number. She picked up during the second ring and asked with dry amusement: "Is this you calling me because you ran off without a location to go to?" 

"I hate you for knowing me too well," Clint told her. "Also, yes. Could you track Tony's phone for me, please?" 

"I'm on it already," she replied, and damn, she really did know him too well. Then again, she knew every person she met too well. It was what she was good at, after all. "Just give me a minute, this is a Stark Phone, I probably wouldn't be able to crack that if he hadn't given all of us the same encryption. I love teams." 

Clint smirked, although he was still tapping his foot impatiently while he waited for Natasha to speak up again. Tony couldn't just have asked him to tag along or something, no, he had to drive off all on his own to god-knows-where. 

_And why would he ask you for company, Barton?_

"He's... in New York," Natasha piped up, effectively keeping him from following that thought. "At the airport closest to Sta- Avengers Tower." 

"Thanks. Call you later. I've got a billionaire to catch," he stated and hung up, pocketing the phone and pulling the helmet over his head again as he climbed back onto the motorcycle and pulled out onto the highway with a probably murderous speed. He had some time to make up for. 

Tony wasn't sure how much time had passed until FRIDAY's professional voice sounded out of his Stark Phone's speakers. "Boss, someone has tracked your mobile's location."

Groaning, the engineer snapped back to reality. Of course they had, it wasn't really a big surprise.  
But for now, he wasn't concerned about SHIELD knowing his location, Upstate was far enough away that they couldn't reach him in time anymore. And like he had said, Fury seemed to get old.  
Tony stood and walked trough the shrinking crowds of people to his private terminal. The jet should be ready every minute. 

When the engineer finally dropped into his jet's cushions, another half-hour had passed. The stewardess handed him a drink and the pilot started the engines.

Clint arrived at the airport roughly an hour after he had gotten the message of Tony having left, hopefully less. He practically jumped off of his vehicle, grabbing his bow from the backrest because who the hell was supposed to know what Tony had gotten himself into this time. With the quiver slung over his shoulder, the helmet under one arm and the bow in the other hand, he ran towards the entrance, dodging tourists and travellers during his frantic dash to the secluded section that was usually reserved for the Stark Jet.

 _If I drove the damn motorcycle here like a maniac for nothing, Tony, I swear to God..._

He bit out a curse when he spotted the Jet, engines rumbling as it slowly started to roll across the runway. _Oh no, you're not getting rid of me this easily, Stark_ , he vowed silently. Carelessly, he dropped the helmet to the concrete floor as he pulled out an arrow and began to run again, dodging the security guards with a shout of "back the fuck off, I'm an Avenger!" as he stormed out onto the runway, notched the arrow onto the bowstring and pulled it tight, holding his breath for a second before he let go with an exhale.

The arrow hit the plane above its wing and stuck to the metal as Clint hurried to keep up with the starting jet before it left the ground. As soon as he was halfway parallel with it, he pulled himself up with the cord attached to the arrow. 

_Natasha would murder me if she could see this_. Well, good that she wasn't here, then.

He suppressed a groan of pain when the sudden pull reminded him of the wound on his arm. He'd survived worse - and, at the very least, this worked. Clint allowed himself a small fist pump as he landed on the wing and didn't fall off right away. 

Although, regarding the situation now, maybe he should have thought this through before jumping the plane that was about to take off. Fuck. 

At first, Tony thought he was asleep or again hallucinating, because there was Clint on the Tarmac. _Why does my head keep hallucinating him?_ The engineer stumbled about his thoughts. _Stop. The first time wasn't a hallucination._

"Oh fuck." With a loud thud, the archer jumped onto the airplane's wing. "Holy shit!"

Tony jumped out of his chair, grabbing his battery and running to the emergency door. 

"Stop the damn plane!" 

The engineer pulled the door open and tugged Clint inside harshly. The plane still hadn't stopped moving, so Tony slammed the door shut.

He rubbed the back of his head incredulously. "Fuck, Clint." The archer stood up and tossed his bow and arrows into a corner. 

"You know, even if we call you Hawk it doesn't mean that you can fly! God, you're insane." Tony started babbling, he always babbled when he was overwhelmed. But hey, it was totally justified in this case! 

"What, it worked, didn't it?" Clint responded, clutching his arm. "Also, you're the one who's fucking insane. Just so you know, I just raced from the HQ here on a goddamn motorcycle to catch up with you. Jesus." He leaned back against the wall behind him. "So, where are we going?"

He forced himself to let go of the wound and ran a hand through his sweaty hair, fully aware that it must be sticking up into every possible direction. 

"Okay, I'll give you that, I should probably not let that kind of stunt become a habit," he admitted as he thought about what would have happened if Tony hadn't immediately noticed him. "Blame it on sleep deprivation. Natasha woke me up far too damn early to have a - nevermind, actually. You okay?" He should really catch a few more hours of sleep. 

"Yeah I am okay." _Except for the still not repaired reactor._ "But you aren't."

Tony inspected Clint from head to toe. His hair was tousled, his cheeks flushed and his clothes weren't fitting well. Oh and he seemed to have an immense pain in his shoulder. 

"Maybe you shouldn't climb in planes if you just got shot." Despite his words, he pushed the archer gently into the lounge. "We are going to Malibu, my old home. Got a basement with stuff there I need to fix the reactor." Tony shrugged casually.

Maybe it was a good thing that Clint came with him. He wouldn't get lonely without any company. Dum-E was living in the Tower's workshop now, so the one in California was uninhabited. Which was a depressing thought, Tony had to admit.

"Take a seat. Want something to drink?" 

"Maybe _you_ shouldn't spontaneously go on road trips without a functioning reactor," Clint countered. "Besides, I'm fine. I've survived much worse. Although I usually plan stuff better. Don't tell Natasha about this, she might just murder me." He leaned back against the comfortable seat and breathed in and out deeply. "I'm getting too old for this shit," he decided tiredly. "But yeah, a drink would be marvellous. Uh, correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't your Malibu mansion sort of blown up last year? Or did you already rebuild it?"

It was a relief to see that Tony looked no less healthy than this morning, although he could probably use some more hours of sleep as well. They had some hours of flight ahead of them anyway, right? Clint doubted that even Tony would be able to completely fill them with chatter.

Tony threw himself in the arm chair opposite to the one Clint took and snorted at his words. 

"Yeah, well... actually, I didn't. Nothing of it. But you will see. I guess."

After the archer took a sip of his drink, Tony started drinking too. But he managed to catch the stewardess before she could leave again.

"You didn't notice there was a man on your plane?" The woman started a very professional and formal excuse; Tony hated it. Back in the old days, they had talked back. 

He sent her away, sighing. The engineer watched his teammate carefully. "You look like shit, go to sleep. ETA is at eight a clock." 

"Charming as always, Tony," Clint remarked drily, although he was sure that the other man was nothing but truthful in that regard. Still, he had made his way here because he didn't want to risk Tony harming himself with some thoughtless action like... like, for example, downing a scotch on top of his painkillers or something like that. So, instead of immediately nodding off to sleep, he asked: "What about you? Are you gonna catch some hours of sleep as well or what's your plan for the flight?"

Tony took another sip. It was odd, he wasn't in the mood to drink, his stomach was still in knots. But he didn't want a drink, he needed one. The engineer had nearly six hours of boring flight in sight and nothing to do. It was a bit like he imagined hell.

"No, I think I will... Inspect the bar. My last check-up was a while ago." Tony winked and pointed to the door on his right hand side. "Make yourself at home."

Before Tony had a chance to follow up on that, Clint grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him backwards onto the seat next to him. 

"No way," he decided sternly. "I'll bet my bow that you're on painkillers and you're not going near your bar like that." 

"Hey, hey... Man with external heart over here." Carefully he inspected the wires, no, they were still okay. "Calm down, Barton. It wouldn't be the first time I had a drink while on painkillers. It's nothing new." However, Tony resigned and glanced up at his teammate.

"Then let's go to bed. Again. Wait, didn't you want to wait with sleeping until this," he made a vague gesture to his chest, "is fixed?"

Both men headed towards the bedroom. It was comfortable and decorated in warm colours. Despite the obligatory king size bed, there was another armchair and a small drawer. 

"Pick the one you like." Tony offered, while searching for another blanket. 

Clint made a beeline for the armchair and curled up on it so he was laying on his side, but had a perfect view on the bed.

"The fact that you did it before doesn't make it any more healthy," Clint responded, shaking his head slightly. "You wanna work later, right? Don't mix that stuff. Seriously. Don't." He toed his shoes off and peeled the leather jacket off. "In my defence," he added as an afterthought, "I didn't think you'd... you know. Take that ex-SHIELD thing and go on a road trip with it. The farthest I expected you to go was your mini-workshop at HQ and since I'm not any help there, I thought I might as well go to sleep. I would probably still be under if not for Natasha."

Tony returned to the archer, a surprisingly (or not) soft dark purple blanket in hand.

"I cannot repair it at the headquarters, I need something I've build in my house some time ago." No, Tony was definitely not defending himself. He hadn't done anything wrong.

The engineer looked down at Clint, who had curled up on himself, ridiculously small. Smiling, he grabbed the other man's shoulder and pulled him upright again.

The archer tried to protest, but was silenced by Tony, who tucked him in and pushed him back down.

Clint huffed, but still tugged the blanket tighter around himself. Purple. How considerate. 

"I shouldn't fall asleep again if you wanna sleep," he pointed out, looking up at the inventor with a slightly wary expression. Who knew whether Tony was just putting him to sleep so he could continue to do whatever he had planned to do involving alcohol and his painkillers. Nope. No way. "I've had a few hours, I'm fine." 

Tony raised an eyebrow and sat down on the bed. "I'm not going to sleep, I've slept enough this night, thanks to you, by the way. But I will rest a bit."

Clint seemed still concerned, but also really tired. Tony sighed and reached into his night stand, surely there would be something to do. 

"Go to sleep, Birdie", he repeated, settling back into the comfortable cushions. "I won't run away. Not yet, at least." In the drawer he found some drafts of a little project he had thought about some time ago.

Hesitantly, Clint pulled the blanket tighter, still watching the engineer.

"'s not like you're gonna get far on this jet," Clint responded, curled up on the surprisingly comfortable armchair. He _could_ stay awake if he had to, he'd gotten some hours of sleep and while it might not be enough to be really and truly rested, it would suffice to stay awake for a bit longer.  
Then again, he was comfortable, tired, and he had at least some sort of faith in Tony's common sense. The inventor seemed to have something to do for now and Clint would most likely wake up if he got up to 'inspect his bar' anyway, so it couldn't hurt to close his eyes for a bit, right?

Tony watched the other man over the drafts, noticing how he got more and more sleepy. 

The archer was, apart from Bruce of course, the Avenger who was the most similar to him. This was one of the moments this was quite obvious. 

Clint's eyes closed and Tony thought about sneaking out of the bed, but decided otherwise. He didn't doubt that the agent's sleep was light enough to catch him halfway through the room.

So Tony made himself comfortable, worked a bit, his battery next to him on the bed, while sending a gaze to the sleeping Clint every now and then.

This time, Clint didn't suffer from any nightmares. He was back on the road towards the airport, but now, the highway was completely devoid of any drivers apart from himself. He knew that he had to reach Tony in time, but the dream was half-lucid and he didn't put any pressure on himself, somehow aware that he wasn't really awake.

Still, that did get boring after a while, but even though he knew he was dreaming, he was unable to actually change anything that was happening. In the end, he settled for cursing Tony under his breath for making him do this. 

Suddenly, a sound that was decidedly not part of his dream, a quiet rustle and a thud, jerked him awake and he opened his eyes, flinching with a yelp when he found Tony's face only inches away from his own. 

"Whoa, what the fuck, Stark?" he demanded, tugging the blanket up defensively. "Jesus!" 

It took quite a while, three hours actually, until Tony heard a voice. Confused, he looked up from his work, not that there was that much to do, and gave the sleeping pile of agent his attention.

Strange, he clearly wasn't awake, but talking.

Curiously and definitely amused, the engineer climbed out of the bed and stepped closer to the armchair.

He slid to his knees, setting the battery down as quietly as he could next to himself. 

At the next moment, the muttered swearing came to a stop and the archer opened his eyes. Tony couldn't suppress a giggle when he noticed the instinctive defence mechanism with the blanket, even if there wasn't anything to hide at all.

"My my... We have to work on your language, Cap wouldn't be amused... But I'm honoured that you dream about me." 

"Wha-what did I say?" Clint asked, blinking in confusion. "God, no, please don't tell me." Great. This was what he got for falling asleep this unguardedly. How long had Tony been sitting there? "I- I, um, I wasn't actually dreaming of you. I dreamt of... another Tony Stark. Whom I happen to know." He really hoped he wasn't blushing, this was embarrassing enough as it was. Trying to steer the conversation into another direction, he asked: "Are we there yet?" 

Yeah, as if Tony would let him get away this easily. 

"Yeah, of course, can you introduce us? He sounds like a really awesome guy to me." Clint's face was glowing with shame, something Tony hadn't seen this often so far, but really appreciated to be honest. It made the archer look a lot younger and a little bit more honest. 

Tony really wasn't sure how to describe it properly. 

When Clint chose not to answer and instead untangled himself from the blanket the engineer sighed and let go of that point. "Nope, just halfway through, three hours remaining. So, want to go back to sleep?" Tony wondered if him sneaking up to the archer had caused him waking up, he hoped he was mistaken. "Or do you want to keep me some company with... whatever I am going to do?"

Clint cleared his throat and replied: "I think I've slept enough for now, thanks. So what do people do on a fancy Stark Jet like this?" 

He considered dropping the blanket on the armchair, the plane was heated well enough, but it was comfortable and fluffy so he ended up wrapping it around his shoulders. 

It looked like a dark purple cape; the agent saw his opportunity and took it. He struck a pose, one hand extended for dramatic effect, and declared: "Behold Clinton, the god of snark and archery! Bow, puny mortal!" Then, he broke character after just a few seconds and snickered: "Heh. _Bow_ before the god of archery."

Tony hold back a grin to hide his amusement and instead rolled his eyed and sighed dramatically. "I don't bow before anybody, except for Natasha. That woman is kinda scary."

He shook his head remembering what the assassin had done in the past. "But yeah, normally, people get drunk in here," he stated and shrugged his shoulders. "But since we're both on painkillers at the moment and someone in here is a bit girly about that... I don't know, I'll leave it to you, Barton."

 _What's with all the capes? Why does everyone wear a cape now? I mean, okay, Thor has reasons, but Vision? Its kinda impractical. And I find it's quite dangerous!_ Tony would know, he'd tried that while building the Mark 18. It was a big mess, but Dum-E had had fun tidying it all up.

"'Girly'?" Clint repeated. "Excuse me, I must be getting old, we used to call that 'reasonable'." He stretched, wincing when something in his back popped back into place with an audible crack. Maybe the armchair hadn't been the best place to fall asleep in - then again, he'd had worse in the past, he wasn't going to complain about this.

"What kind of stuff do billionaires put on their planes? Apart from booze? Don't ask me, I'm a goddamn carnie, this is out of my league."

Tony shrugged again, leaving the bedroom after being sure that Clint would follow. "The only other thing I have up here is a Wii. But honestly, most time I spend the time at the bar or at work. So, not that many options."

Actually besides from one flight a while ago with Rhodes, the Wii was still unused. Tony didn't use the jet that often anymore, if he had to travel, he would take his suit. And if he should travel with someone, Pepper or Rhodey, there was no one else, it was mostly work related, not much time for fun.

"So... Mario Kart?"


	6. Chapter 6

Clint felt a slow grin spreading on his face. 

"Do I get this right? You just challenged me to a three hour Mario Kart marathon? Alright, I hope there aren't any security cameras in here because I'm pretty sure you won't want anyone to see how you got your rich ass handed to you later," he announced and pulled his cape tighter. "Lead the way, Stark, and prepare to be defeated." 

"You've spent too much time with Thor. That cannot be healthy..." 

Only half an hour later Tony was endlessly annoyed, and Clint endlessly amused. "Did you really throw a blue shell at me? What are you? A monster?" The engineer was incredulous, he hadn't believed his friend that cruel. The archer didn't respond, he was too busy trying to prevent himself from falling from the couch.

The two totally grown up men spent the next two hours bitching over the game, or to be precise, Tony swearing about the game being corrupt and Clint giggling every time he passed the engineer just seconds before winning. 

"Okay Legolas, now we're getting serious! Give me the goddamn rainbow... _thingy_ , all or nothing!" Determinedly, Tony grabbed his controller again, which had somehow landed in the gummy plant in the corner, after Clint had managed to hit him four times in a row with a green shell. No wonder that the billionaire had accused him to be cheating, no one could have such an aim at Mario Kart!

"It is _on_ ," Clint stated with a devilish grin, sprawling out on the couch comfortably. He could absolutely get used to this. Without a second thought, he stretched out and planted his feet in Tony's lap. 

He wasn't usually the – well, the Tony type; the inventor either had no idea or just deliberately ignored the concept of personal space when he casually stepped up to others, giving out back-pats, one-armed hugs and, on one memorable occasion, draped himself all over Clint's back because the archer had been holding the coffee pot and Tony, all sleepy with tousled hair and pillow creases on one cheek had come walking into the kitchen like some sort of zombie.

The point being, Tony didn't usually mind making contact with others, although usually, he was the one to initiate it. 

God, what the hell was he even working himself up about? If Tony didn't like this, he would say so, he was a grown man, for heaven's sake. There was absolutely nothing here to cause himself a headache over. 

Tony didn't bother to look at the archer when he got into a more comfortable position. "Don't try to distract me, Barton, it won't work this time!" 

With a triumphal cry the engineer managed a perfect start, claiming once more the first position for himself. But this time Clint wouldn't win, he was sure. Before he would lose again, he would– Tony couldn't think about what he would do otherwise, because the archer tackled his Kart surprisingly.  
"You sonofa-", he groaned while falling into the black void beneath the race course.

He could feel Clints body trembling with his nearly hysterical giggling, and the choked "Language, Stark", but he ignored it stoically. 

Or he planned to do so. 

The Computer players weren't a match for the two avengers, so by the time of the last round they were the only ones fighting over the first place. 

Both men were staring grimly at the screen while hammering on the controllers, like it was a game about life and death. _It is worse. It's Mario kart!_

Finally they reached the finish line, Tony jumping from the couch, accidentally shoving Clint's legs out of his lap.

"Hah! Seen that! That's how you win! Hah! Admit it I am better than you, Birdboy!" 

Clint straightened up on the couch, staring at the screen in horror. 

"No way," he protested incredulously. "No. Something went wrong there. That's not – that doesn't count. I refuse to acknowledge that this game has taken place. No goddamn– Jesus, sit the fuck down, Tony, don't rip these wires, seriously. I can't see myself giving you CPR, to be honest, how the hell am I supposed to get to your heart, anyway." _Did that come out wrong?_ "I demand a re-match, like, _right now_."

"Actually, sirs," FRIDAY piped up, "I would advise you to get strapped in now. The jet is about to touch ground." 

Clint pointed a finger at Tony. "I am not forgetting about this. I– I _let_ you win. It was all on purpose." 

Tony let himself been pulled back onto the couch. "Nah, Birdie. You're just a really sore loser." The engineer couldn't resist to stick out his tongue at Clint, who was sulking like a kid. He looked very young and carefree that way, Tony noticed that he liked that.

Still grinning, the inventor grabbed his battery, it got very annoying by now, and led the other man back to the armchairs. After strapping in and sitting in comfortable silence, Tony had to admit that this flight was far away from horrible. He had been right, Clint was a nice person to have around. 

"By the way, what's with these wanna-be-HYDRAs? Any information about them by now?" After being rescued, the engineer's interest had been on his arc-reactor, but now, he should begin to inform himself about his kidnappers. 

Besides, he didn't really want to get caught _again_. 

"Oh, right," Clint murmured, fastening his seat belt while the jet began to tip downwards. "Knew that I forgot something. Um, I've got my phone in my jacket, I can call Natasha and ask about what they found out so far as soon as we're landed. Oh, by the way, do _not_ tell her about how I got on the plane, okay? She's going to decapitate me and pin my head to the roof of the HQ as a reminder for recruits to not pull shit like that, ever."

The most frightening thing was that he wasn't sure if Natasha wasn't going to do just that. _After_ giving him the 'yeah, I see how you don't have a crush'-talk, of course. He'd be really grateful for the opportunity to spare himself that particular type of death, thank you very much.

And apart from that, he was really interested in knowing whether Natasha and the others had learned something about the organisation; they had been incredibly unprofessional this time around, but who knew if they weren't going to learn from it and try again? It was only reasonable to want to stop them, being a superhero and everything. It was his job. Depending on what they planned to power with Tony's reactor, they might become a serious threat. 

And maybe, there was a small part of Clint that wanted vengeance, a part that made itself known each time he looked at the empty reactor casing in Tony's chest. He didn't let anyone hurt his team, alright? Before, that had included just Coulson and Natasha in Strike Team Delta, but now, the Avengers were a part of that and he sure as hell wasn't making any exceptions in that regard.

Tony grinned again by the way how worried Clint looked. But he couldn't blame him for being scared of Natasha. This woman had rammed a needle in his neck. 

God, Tony was still a bit cautious when the agent was around him with dangerous tools. Well, in Natasha's hands, every thing was a dangerous tool.

After the Ultron incident, the engineer had begun to trust Fury a bit more, even granted him a bit of respect, but that was in no comparison to Natasha. Even if Tony wouldn't admit it loud, he was glad that she was on his side.

"No, don't worry, I won't tell Nat," he promised. The archer seemed very relieved. As an afterthought, Tony added. "Ah, by the way, are you still pining?"

The relieved breath that Clint had been exhaling caught in his throat and his gaze snapped up to meet the engineer's. Tony regarded him with a look of playful curiosity, his head slightly tilted to the side while he lounged comfortably in his seat.

Natasha hadn't talked to him, had she? No. No way. He was going to _murder_ her, she had not done that. No fucking way. Then again, Clint had been asleep for two or three hours and had woken up to Tony sitting right in front of the armchair – but no, she wouldn't. Would she?

He was fully aware that he was blushing, his cheeks were probably red enough to stop New York's traffic during the rush hour. Stumbling over his own words, he stammered: "I- I have no idea what you're- I'm not crushing on – I'm not pining." _Way to go, Barton. You're so damn convincing. Secret agent, anyone? What the hell are you doing?_ "Not for– anyone." He laughed nervously. "Whom should I be pining for? C'mon, that's ridiculous." 

Fuck. He was so dead. 

It took Tony all of his resolve to not burst into laughter. This blushing and nearly panicking Clint was hilarious!

"Natasha, of course. Everyone in the team waits for you two to _finally_ hook up!" Tony decided against telling his teammate that there was a big bet going when the agents would update their status from 'friends with benefits' to 'lovers'.

The engineer himself was of course in that, too, so he hoped for some insider information.  
"Come on, don't deny it!" Tony could congratulate himself for asking that question, Clint was _so_ crushing on Natasha. His reaction alone told more than enough! 

Still grinning he leaned as close as it was possible with the seatbelt. "Tell me, tell me everything.", he mumbled while definitely looking like the Cheshire Cat itself. 

Clint was still staring at Tony with wide eyes when the inventor's words sunk in. Oh. _Oh._ That... oh. He'd been panicking over nothing, then. Alright.

Slowly, he leaned back in his seat, considering whether he should leave Tony in the belief that he was pining for Natasha or not. If he did, he would of course get out of further questioning by the inventor; then again, he risked being strangled by Natasha as soon as she heard of it. 

"W-well," he said slowly, drawing the word out to stall a bit more. He hadn't outed himself to the team yet - not because of shame or anything, but because it had just never come up. And now might not be the best moment to do so. "That's... complicated?" Which wasn't a lie. Nothing that had to do with Natasha was ever not complicated. "We're- we're not a thing, if that's what you're thinking." The pounding of his pulse in his ears was subsiding and allowed him to think a little bit more clearly. "And we don't plan on becoming one." Of course they were not, he was gay, that was a major problem in that regard. "No hooking up in near future, I suppose." Not a lie either, not at all. "Sorry to disappoint you, Tony, but me and Natasha? Nope." 

Okay, there went his tactic of 'don't reveal anything'. He just had to hope that the inventor wouldn't keep digging. 

Tony watches the archer looking pointed out if the widow while the jet sank lower every second. 

"Oh come on Barton. You don't really think you can drop this so easily?" The engineer went on staring at Clint, getting more and more interested. A crush on Natasha? Nothing too spectacular, but a crush on someone else and trying to hide it, a lot more spectacular. 

"You've nearly freaked out at my question, you can't tell me there is nothing. So if not Natasha, who else? And why is that with you and Nat complicated?" 

_If he got turned down? Mh, he could be crushing on her, but they aren't "a thing" because Natasha doesn't want to?_

Tony scrutinized Clint again. Could the have missed a lovesick archer? Or were they wrong and there was another one in Clint's life? 

Tony _had_ to know.

But the other one was saved by the planes landing, which was too loud in the little jet to allow a conversation. 

Clint relaxed in his seat, enjoying the lack of questioning during he jet's landing. It gave him time to sort through his thoughts and decide on what he could tell Tony without giving him enough information to figure it out, while at the same time seeming like he wasn't holding back too much to avoid suspicions. 

God, it was like a fucking mission. 

As soon as they touched ground, he unbuckled his seat belt and announced: "I'm going to grab my phone, I'll be right back." Before Tony could respond, he had hurried over towards the room he had fallen asleep in for the first half of the flight and picked the leather jacket up, slipped back into his shoes and then took a deep breath. Alright. He'd been trained to lie, he could do this. 

Only that his missions usually didn't involve _feelings_. God dammit. 

Turning on his heel, he left the room again, pulling his phone out of his pocket on his way out. As he had half expected, he had a bunch of missed calls and texts from Natasha. He scrolled through the messages while walking back towards where he had left Tony. 

_You got there safely?  
_

 _Did you catch him?  
_

 _Come on, Clint, Stark tech is hard to hack. Don't make me crack your phone._

 _If you managed to get out of your 50 Shades of Denial and are making out with Tony right now, I want pictures.  
_

 _Alright, hacked your phone. I hate you, by the way. But good to know that you're on a plane on your way to god knows where and didn't bother telling me.  
_

 _At least your phone is. Maybe you're dead and Stark is just taking your corpse with him to throw you into the ocean.  
_

 _Are you ignoring me on purpose?!_

"Natasha is pissed," he announced cheerfully when he caught sight of Tony. "And she was too busy complaining about me not calling her to tell me if they found out anything. Should I call her? And ask about the kidnapping?" He glanced up from the small screen, hoping that that offer would be enough to distract Tony from their previous conversation topic. 

Tony smiled when Clint fled his questions to grab his phone. Yes, the other man really tried to hide something.

 _Or he just doesn't want to be reminded of her. Or him. Or whatever._

Tony hesitated, he had always assumed that the archer was straight, because of his apparent pining over Natasha. But maybe he was into guys? The engineer shrugged inwardly, none of his business. Yet. He could investigate that matter further when they reached his mansion and finished his work. 

"Yeah, call her. Can't wait for information about these bastards." Only the memory of his kidnapping, as blurred as it was, was enough to give him goosebumps. Tony just wanted to kick their asses and go on with his normal life.

As normal as a life as Genius-Billionaire-Philantropist-Avenger could be. 

Patiently, he remained silent when the archer called Natasha and guided Clint out of the Jet. 

Clint hit the call-button and pressed the phone to his ear. Natasha almost immediately picked up. 

"Oh, so you actually didn't fall from the sky," she greeted drily. "Nice to hear from you." 

"I slept through the flight," the archer lied. 

"Sure," Natasha just responded. "Because I'm totally buying that. So, what are you calling for? Gonna mope some more?" 

"Nat!" Clint hissed. "No, thanks a bunch, I was going to tell you that I'm okay, thanks for asking, by the way, and ask whether you found out anything about our idiotic band of kidnappers." 

He stepped out of the small jet and looked around on the runway. He wasn't familiar with the place, so he just followed Tony, who seemed to know his way around well enough. 

"We'll finish that talk later," Natasha vowed, but then continued: "They're not part of any big organisation. Didn't appear on the radar before. Seems like it was someone who had the money and motivation and wanted the arc reactor technology. The problem with badly organised groups like this is that it's hard to get any information on them because they don't work with a system. But it's unlikely that we're gonna hear from them again." 

"I'll take your word on that," the archer replied. "Wait, gimme a sec." He lowered the phone and gave Tony a questioning glance. "We don't really have anything on the kidnappers, they don't seem to belong to anything bigger," he repeated the information that Natasha had provided him with. "You want to know anything else or is that it for now?" 

Tony answered Clint's glance with a shrug. "If she finds out something important, she can call. FRIDAY can connect her directly to the workshop, too, as soon as we arrive."

The engineer left it to Clint to explain Natasha what he wanted and went to the car that was parked near the Tarmac. He had missed California, after all. Even if he had lived in New York for the most of the time after the Chitauri and then after Ultron, he didn't consider it as 'home'.

Tony was pleased that it was that late and the sun had set a while ago, so the nearly ever present heat wasn't that threatening. To be honest, there were only a few things that were more disgusting than heat with an open chest. Not only because of the sweat and the uncomfortable feeling of the external battery, but because of the missing cooling effect of the reactor in his chest, the rim was growing hot, too.

Clint ended his call and joined him in the car. Neither of them talked, they drove the short distance to the former Malibu residence in silence.

Tony wasn't really sure why he let the archer retreat into his common 'agent shell', which hid his thoughts and emotions very well. Maybe he had enough common sense to know when someone needed his space. He could interrogate him further later in their trip.

Eventually, the car stopped at the half-rebuilt ruins of the mansion, Tony swallowed slightly with the memory of that time.

"Well, I should give you a tour, shouldn't I?"

Clint shut the door behind himself and leaned back against the car, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

"Looks cosy," he remarked drily, staring at the building in front of him. He had heard of the story with the Mandarin - well, who hadn't; in fact, he just _might_ have had a major freakout when he had read that Tony Stark was presumed dead. It had lasted until Natasha had practically slapped a tablet at his face, bearing the news of Iron Man's role in the rescue of president Ellis.

The archer forced himself to let go of that memory and turned towards Tony to ask: "Why didn't you rebuild it?" The building on the cliff looked like someone had started reparations, but never followed through with them, leaving the once magnificent mansion with a look of a half-finished futuristic disaster. 

_Yeah. Why didn't I rebuild it_?

Tony twisted his hands a bit, struggling with a plausible answer. "Well... I didn't feel like doing it?" He bit his lip uneasily, tried not to drift back into unpleasant memories. 

"You know... Without Pepper, I didn't need a whole mansion out here when I live in New York most of the time." 

Pepper had liked the Tower, she designed it with him at first, but their house was here in Malibu. Tony was happy with living there after he suffered from nightmares after the Chitauri. But now, he didn't want to restore the bad things buried down in the ruins. 

He really didn't care if it made sense for other people. It made sense for him. 

And up until now no one had questioned this move. Clint was the first.

"So, yeah... As you see there isn't that much to see. My workshop is underground and the rest is more or less empty. But take a look for yourself?" 

Tony tried to cover his nervousness with his trademark grin. He wasn't sure if Barton bought it. 

Clint may have been a second too late with his answer, but he saw no reason to call Tony out on the fact that he was obviously hiding something. The guy had been through enough lately, there was no need for him to go and add to that pile.

"Sure," he replied instead and pushed away from the car, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Tony was following as Clint approached the building. Or building site. Whatever. It seemed to be just enough of a house to fit the most necessary rooms in it. "Having the press knowing this address might have been a factor, too," the archer mused. Now, they seemed to be alone since Tony hadn't been here in weeks or even months and it sure didn't pay off for any reporter to keep lounging around here, but in the beginning, it must have been hell.

Relieved that Clint didn't dig further, he stayed two steps behind the other man.

They inspected the rebuilt rooms in more or less silence, there wasn't that much to talk to be honest. The kitchen was empty despite a white and black kitchen unit and a fridge, nothing was stored. 

Tony kept the little supplies he had in this house down at the workshop. There, he had another, smaller fridge and a microwave for all-nighters, so the kitchen wasn't built to be used.

In the living room it was even worse. Back then, there had been a piano, couches and a big window to look over the water. Now it contained only a small sofa and a coffee table, it seemed lifeless even for him.

"Sorry." Tony grinned to the archer. "Normally I would have some more stuff here, but without JARVIS to control everything. I have, you know... I have to build things differently than before."

The inventor sighed soundlessly, he remembered how lost he had felt in the Tower, the time after JARVIS had been killed. It had taken a while to connect FRIDAY with the systems, and even then.  
Tony focused on Clint again. "Well I have a bed down in the workshop, so no bedroom up here. So out room tour is over."

He gestured to a security door that led downstairs. "Shall we? Or do you have something to do?"

"Last time I checked, I didn't," Clint replied with a shrug. "Also, I'm kinda curious about that workshop of yours. I've only ever seen the one in the tower, and from what you told me, this one's bigger."

It didn't matter that there wasn't much Clint understood from Tony's work. During the few times when he had gotten the chance to watch the mechanic work, when he'd stuck around to test new arrows or other toys that Tony came up with, he had understood that turning ridiculously complicated math formulas over in his head, tweaking and improving designs or putting those plans to a use did the same for Tony that archery did for Clint.

He followed the inventor down the circular staircase and stopped when he spotted the circular,

metallic mass of pipes behind the glass doors.

Slowly, he asked: "So, is that... supposed to be there? Because it kinda looks like you tore some wall or the other down to put it there." 

Tony turned his head to look at the surprised archer. "Well, yeah. It's supposed to be there. Kind of. I've needed it to create-" The engineer tried to tab the place where the reactor should be and flinched back. "Oops. To create the new element. You know, so that I wouldn't die because of poisoning." He cracked a grin, no need to show that he was still uncomfortable with that topic.  
"And I was kind of, you know, enthusiastic, so I've expanded my workshop spontaneously. You like it? I think it's really decorative if you're getting used to it."

Tony shrugged and opened the workshop door. "So, have a look. But no touching!" He warned grinning while heading to one of the metallic cupboards. 

The archer chuckled. "Yeah. You should be making room decorations, now that I take a second look at it, I find that design really appealing." He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and began to slowly wander around the workshop. The pedestals that were probably usually used for the armours were empty, there were some parts laying around on the floor, some small glass shards - he was definitely not going to pull off his shoes here - but all in all, it looked like it was just waiting for Tony to bring it back to life.

When he had satisfied his curiosity and sized up the various exits of the room, including vents (it was a habit, alright? He always needed a way out), Clint headed for the couch that stood in a corner of the room, wondering what had prompted the engineer to put such an out-of-place-item there, and flopped down on it. After checking whether there was anything pointy or explosive somewhere on the cushions. With Tony Stark, you never knew. 

While Tony grabbed all items he needed to recreate the reactors element, he watched Clint trailing through his workshop.

He didn't seem to be annoyed by the chaotic state that wasn't cleared since the Mandarin attack.  
The engineer took one of the goggles which belonged to the standard inventory of his workshops. "Are you okay with staying over there? It's going to be a bit messy. So if not, you should grab one of those, too." Tony gestured towards the leftover goggles and his workplace.

He was glad that he had managed to fix most of the reactor back at the headquarters, so he could start with the core immediately. More carefully than usual, the tools were spread out across the workbench. The engineer smirked slightly, Pepper always complained about his messy attitude at work. She would go crazy and didn't set a foot inside at the moment.

Tony glanced to Clint on the sofa. The archer on the other hand didn't seem to mind and kept watching the particle accelerator. 

Maybe he was more narcissistic than he thought, but the idea of Clint taking a close look on his work was... Nice. Despite Tony's discomfort near the SHIELD-agents, he didn't seem to mind his teammate knowing some things about the reactor. Maybe because he was a _teammate_ and Tony trusted him. More than SHIELD, at least.

The archer sprawled out on the couch and watched as Tony moved around in the workshop, gathering tools and materials that Clint would probably have trouble memorising the names of, much less be able to make something with them. He was good at other things, he didn't need to engineer as well. They already had one super genius on the team, that should be enough, right? He was the one responsible for said super genius not going on road trips with a fucking hole in his chest.

 _And doing a marvellous job at that, Barton, seeing how you're now in Malibu with him_ , the archer thought drily. Then again, it was important for Tony's health, right? 

Why was he justifying his actions in front of himself now? That was ridiculous. He'd just sit back, enjoy the show and hopefully stop thinking; his brain was being ridiculous. 

It didn't take such a great amount of time to set up the element recreation. Tony thought how much more comfortable it was when he didn't have to be afraid of dying if he wouldn't succeed. 

After a last check up of the more or less professionally connected pipes (Tony still hadn't bothered to replace Captain Americas shield prototype with something more fitting), he took the position at the prisma catalyst. With a last glance back at Clint he asked JARVIS to turn up the accelerator. Nothing happened.

 _Of course not. FRIDAY isn't connected to the workshop yet and JARVIS is... gone._ Tony shook his head to get back in the game. "Hey Barton, mind to lend me a hand over here?"

Clint snapped to attention upon hearing his name. Quickly, he hurried over towards the inventor, his gaze wandering over the mess of pipes and... other things. He'd be damned if he could name even half of them. 

Then again, not his job, right? 

"Sure. How do you want me?" 

Tony grinned at the archer's choice of words, but didn't made a snarky remark. This time.  
Instead he pointed at the board on his right side. "Would you turn it on? I've got full hands over here," the engineer said and grabbed the giant screwdriver he used the first time as well.

"No problem," Clint nodded and followed Tony's instructions, searching for the on-switch that would have to be here somewhere, right? "So," he began, slightly distracted, "what is it you're actually doing here? We're synthesising your, uh, reactor element thingy, but I'll admit that I've never read your SHIELD file. Why don't you just buy a load of this stuff so you have some for emergencies?" 

Tony startled a bit at Clints question, unsure what to answer. "Well, just because I can't buy it. It's kind of... unknown," he murmured while placing the badassiums triangle casing at the other side of the accelerator. 

"So that would be all, thanks Barton." The engineer wasn't sure if that was really subtle enough to prevent further curious questions. 

"I'll just..." Tony placed the car battery at his feet. "Power that thing up and voilà, that's all." In a strained motion, he twisted the screwdriver on the valve to start the energy, without looking at the archer again.

Clint blinked at Tony's not-so-subtle deflection. His curiosity piqued, he inquired: "Do you mean that's - whoa!" He jumped back with a startled sound when suddenly, a beam of bright light shot from whatever Tony was handling and smashed into the opposite wall. "Is that supposed to be happening?" he shouted over the noise, staring at the engineer with a hint of concern.

Tony gritted his teeth with the effort and panted a 'yes' in Bartons direction. Now everything had to work out the way it did before.

It seemed a lifetime until the beam hit the little triangle, Tony was really glad that he hadn't repaired the damage from the first use, without doing much further damage. And then, after a few seconds, everything was over. Hastily the engineer turned the valve again, sliding to his knees, more exhausted than he wanted to admit, but Tony only allowed himself a few seconds of rest before he fought himself upright again to collect the badassium. He felt the gaze of the archer on his back, when he did so and implemented the element in the reactor in the table.

Clint surveyed the damage in the lab, taking only shallow breaths because of the dust that had risen. When he heard Tony fiddling with the reactor, he tore his eyes away from the wall to look at the engineer, who held the glowing triangle in a pair of tongs.

"Is it always that... dramatic?" he asked drily, watching the inventor, but kept his voice down as he did so. He didn't want to startle or distract Tony, not in a moment like this. After all, he wouldn't want to be the one to force the inventor to destroy his lab even further. The wall already looked pitiful enough. "Because if it is, I'm sorta surprised that this whole building is still standing. ...Uh, well. It's not. But you get my point."

Tony implemented the element in the casing before he turned to answer the archer. "Well, it is. But normally it is a pretty long-living energy source, so no need to create it that often."

Clint seemed a bit... distressed? Tony wasn't sure what is problem was, but he wouldn't ask him. He was happy that he was mostly done with his work, he didn't need a further examination of this topic at the moment. 

The engineer wasn't normally that sensible with mocking questions, but his nerves seemed a bit thin at the moment. 

He sighed and closed the reactor plate, shooting a glance towards his guest before he gripped the at battery. 

"Take a seat, it's showtime," he mumbled, before unhooking the wires unceremoniously and fast. Clints breath hitched at this sight, but Tony didn't pay this much attention. Instead, he plugged the reactor into his chest, enjoying the feeling of being complete again. After that, he prepared himself for his body to get used to the increased energy levels again. Like the first time his muscles and bones shook under the sudden change, making Tony sway a bit.

The engineer licked his lips welcoming the familiar taste of metal and coconut. He hadn't believed that he'd be able to miss something like that. 

Clint fought to keep himself from fidgeting nervously on the chair he was perching on as he watched Tony. The reactor, once settled back in the inventor's chest, glowed more brightly than the archer remembered. Although it wasn't even him who was in danger of dying from shrapnel, he felt some tension drain out of his shoulders in relief when he realised that everything was working properly once again.

He watched Tony's tongue flicking out over his lips like he was tasting something foreign on them, saw the engineer's eyelashes flutter briefly before he opened his eyes again. Clint tore his gaze away when he realised that he was watching all the wrong things, but staring at the reactor wasn't really an option either since he really wasn't sure how comfortable Tony was with that. He settled for examining the makeshift particle accelerator so he was at least not awkwardly staring at the floor or the ceiling like some teenager with a crush. 

After a few deep measured breaths, feeling the familiar heaviness off the device in his body, Tony straightened a bit up and watched his teammate. 

Clint, who was staring with ridiculous interest at the particle accelerator, looked more relaxed but still pale. The engineer felt some kind of happiness in his stomach. He always appreciated it when someone cared that much for him, that he was that comer nee for his well being. It didn't happen that often anymore these days. 

Sure there were those people who mother-henned him, telling him to stop doing this or that, but that was entirely different. Those people told him that for their own sake, not for his.

Moreover, Clint was sensible enough to understand his distress with that topic and tried his best to make things not even more difficult.

Tony really had to thank him properly and he already had an idea how. 

"So, now that you made sure that everything is in its place again, are you leaving? Or are you staying? Is there a plan? Will Fury or Natasha kill you when you don't follow it?" These question were only partially meant jokingly, the other part was genuine curiosity.

Clint pulled his shoulders up in a shrug as he replied: "I have honestly no idea how to answer any of these questions. I should probably send a text to Nat or something, I don't think Fury actually gives a shit what I do, although I should probably tell him you're alive, and apart from that... nope. No plan. Not even any assignments in near future, so unless there's an emergency call, I've got literally nothing to do. A mission report, maybe, but that can wait. Nobody's used to me turning those in on time anyway." He crossed his legs and leaned back. "So that's my non-existent plan for the next days. How about you?" 

Tony frowned a bit, something was odd. He couldn't pin point what seemed strange of Clint's answer, like a hidden second meaning under the words. But the archer didn't seem like he wanted to suggest something with his words. Instead he seemed to be honestly interested in Tony's answer.

"Hm. Didn't you plan to contact Natasha anyways?" The engineer started tidying up his work bench. "I've planned something to be honest. Now that I am here I can use my full resources, not that poor stuff back in New York. Who am I to waste that opportunity?"

Once more, he searched Clint's eyes.

"That means I would spent my whole time down here, so you would have to entertain yourself without my famous skills. Maybe it's better if you head back to the headquarters, use your free time with Romanov or whatever you do in such a case."

Clint ignored the brief sting of disappointment that flared up at the inventor's words. What the hell had he expected, that Tony would invite him to stay over for a week? That was ridiculous.

"Sure," he nodded. "Nat will be incredibly grateful for the chance to... _talk_." Oh god, he was going to die. He winked and then paused. "Wait, did that come out wrong?"

"No, no I think that came out very right." He didn't watch Clint's reaction to his words because he searched for some materials the engineer knew had to be somewhere. Now that he had an idea what to do to thank his teammate he couldn't wait to begin.

"So..." Tony mumbled, feeling the familiar rush of endorphins he always had when he started to work on a new project. Even if this one wasn't an ordinary project.

"Something interesting?" The archer was typing on his phone, looking a bit concerned if Tony didn't mistaken.

 _Me and Natasha. Yeah. Like that's gonna happen._ But maybe he should let Tony believe that for now.

"Nah," Clint made non-committaly. "Just a text from Nat. Apparently, one of the medics screwed up and left half a bullet in Steve's shoulder. Nothing too bad, but it got infected and they'll have to do something about it. Still nothing about the guys who kidnapped you, though." He shrugged. 

Tony flinched at the archer's casual remark about Steve's condition. Suddenly, his stomach flipped unpleasantly, making him grip the workbenches edge.

"I- it's infected? And forgot half a bullet?" The engineers head shook incredulously. Those damn SHIELD morons, couldn't they do anything right? "Hey, hey, Barton, what's going on over there?" Tony stroke his hair nervous and helplessly. "I mean, what the fuck?"

He knew he should stay calm, but he couldn't do calm at the moment. Without giving Clint time to answer, the engineer began pacing through the workshop. "And Fury wonders why I don't let them touch you. They forgot a bullet! In Steve! Hell!"

"Jesus, Tony, calm down!" Clint soothed. "Steve's a big boy, and, uh, you know. Serum. He'll live. It's just a bullet wound, he survived worse." Tony was pacing like a caged tiger, running his hands through his hair as if he wanted to rip it out. He behaved like someone had shot his girlfriend and- oh. _Oh_. "Oh," the archer made quietly.

"Oh? Oh? What happened? What is 'oh'?"

Tony froze in the middle of the room, looking at his teammate warily. Now the look of concern was vanished from Clint's face, instead there was a kind of comprehension and... sadness. That couldn't be a good thing.

"Come on, Barton, tell me, what else have those idiots done?" 

Maybe, Tony thought, was he a bit more hysterical than suitable in this situation. But for gods sake, he had enough problems in the last days for a whole year. That was completely understandable! 

_Tony beds men. Take it from me._ Thoughts were racing in Clint's mind and he quickly decided not to ask about that. He was more than sure that Steve and Tony were not together, but that didn't mean that there couldn't be _something_ , even if it was one-sided. Tony wouldn't get this upset about a non-lethal injury if Steve was just a teammate he constantly bickered with.

 _And you didn't see that_ , Clint thought sarcastically. _Maybe you should re-evaluate how fitting that 'Hawkeye' title actually is._

"No, no, don't worry," he replied with a wave of his hand. "He'll be okay. The rest of the team is fine. Nothing happened." 

Tony instantly relaxed a bit, even if he still was suspicious. Clint never did something without reason, especially not showing emotions in that intensity. The engineer knew SHIELD agents long enough to have some experiences in their behaviour. 

"Okay...", he breathed. "Hope that you're right."

A bit more at ease than before, he slumped into his chair, absently playing with a piece of metal.  
After a while spent in kind of awkward silence, Tony had gathered his thought again. "Ah well, can someone pick you up? You can take the jet, I'll be following in a week or so." He rubbed his neck sheepishly. "You coming here was a bit senseless after all."

"Was not," Clint immediately responded while concealing his wince at Tony's words. "I prevented you from getting drunk while on painkillers. That's gotta count for something." He winked, pasting a smile on his lips. "I'll be taking the jet, if you don't mind. And I'll keep you posted about Steve, yeah?" 

Tony snorted and crossed his arms under the arc reactor. It was calming to be able to do this again. 

"Yeah, that would be nice." For a moment the silence settled one more time over the two men.  
No one seemed to know what to do, and the moment expanded into a minute. "You're going right now? You could stay a night, or eat something first." Tony shrugged again helplessly, but for a different reason this time. "You know?"

Not even the engineer himself knew what Clint should know. The Avengers stared a few seconds in each other's eyes, before Tony burst out in giggles. "W- wow.. T- that was... P- pretty awk-... Awkward."

He curled into himself desperately trying to get a grip on himself. Not very effective. "S- sorry."  
The archer looked at him like he was insane. And maybe he was. 

Clint stared at the inventor for a few seconds, fighting the grin that tugged on the corners of his mouth before he snickered. It _was_ sort of contagious to see Tony laughing again.

"Well, if you plan on making lunch- no, I slept during lunch, dinner? Linner? Anyways, if you plan on having... food anytime soon, I'll stay for that. I won't keep you from working any longer, though." There was no need to make his not-crush any more obvious than it already was or Tony would actually pick up on it someday. 

Slowly, Tony's nearly hysterical laughter was coming to a stop and was reduced to a wide grin. 

"Yep, food is a really good idea." He fought himself back on his food and headed towards his workshop fridge. "Told you that I keep most stuff down here, didn't I?"

Frowning, the engineer inspected the few items he found inside. "Okay, most stuff is apparently not very much." Tony shot a apologetic glance towards his teammate.

"I have an idea, what do you think about going out? There is a very nice restaurant nearby I've visited a lot back then. I would offer to order in, but... Well..." He gestured to the ceiling. "The house isn't in such a great state and I would prefer if nobody takes interest in it again."

The archer fought to keep the grin on his face honest while he tried to ignore the not-so-helpful, sarcastic commentary from his mind. _Look, you're being asked out for dinner. This is going_ great _, isn't it?_

"Yup, I get that," he replied. He may be more an assassin than a spy like Natasha, but he was fully capable of some acting. "Just, um... are we talking about a nice restaurant by your or my standards? Because I didn't bring a suit. Or even a dress shirt, for that matter." 

Tony made a big scene of inspecting his teammate for his appearance. Than he winked overly not-subtle: "Nah, you look always great, darling." 

He paused for a second. "No, really. Don't worry about that, it isn't that exclusive. I remember one time I even went there in the Mark VII..." For a moment he waited for a snarky remark of JARVIS, but that never came. Sighing, he stroked his sweaty hair out of his face. "But I could use a shower to be honest. I'll make myself presentable, meanwhile..." Tony stopped; again, he noticed that he didn't know his teammate very well.

 _You are forty-five years old, you do not blush because someone called you 'darling'. Even if it_ is _Tony Stark._

"Awww, Tony," he responded over-exaggeratedly before shrugging. "Don't worry, I'll keep myself entertained. And I promise not to touch anything." The second part of the sentence was added with a quick glance over to the still smoking wreckage of the, um, well. The thing from before. 

Demonstratively, he pulled his phone from his pocket and flopped back down on the couch. 

"Maybe I wouldn't mind a bit of touching.", Tony picked the same time as the archer. "You could keep me company in the shower."

The engineer gave another flirtatious grin, enjoying the slightest blush he earned for that. After that, Tony climbed upstairs to get the very necessary shower.

It was really weird to be back in his old home. _Can I even call that my house anymore?_

Clint exhaled slowly as soon as Tony left the room. With a low groan, he dropped his head in his hands. He was used to Tony's particular brand of flirting, no-one got left out on that, but it was a whole different thing when he was the only other person in the room so of course, each and every playful chat-up line went towards him.

Shaking his head, he pulled out his phone and answered Natasha's texts curtly, keeping the typing at a minimum while he let her know that nobody died (yet) and he was going to return at some time during the night. 

After a moment of hesitation, he amended: yknow what, im gonna stay at my own flat 4 a bit. be back at hq when u need me

Not the tidiest text, so what. He hated typing on phones.

Tony hurried a bit with washing up, he didn't want to keep Clint waiting too long. Despite that he enjoyed to be _finally_ able to wash the disgusting rest of his kidnapping from his body.

In some way, it reminded him of his first shower after Afghanistan. His first shower with the arc reactor, after the torture, his first one in his new life.

Tony rolled his eyes over himself. Showering wasn't _such_ a big deal, after all. 


	7. Chapter 7

Tony hurried a bit with washing up, he didn't want to keep Clint waiting too long. Despite that, he enjoyed to be _finally_ able to wash the disgusting rest of his kidnapping from his body.

In some way, it reminded him of his first shower after Afghanistan. His first shower with the arc reactor, after the torture, his first one in his new life.

Tony rolled his eyes over himself. Showering wasn't _such_ a big deal, after all.

Half an hour later, Tony joined Clint freshly shaven and in new clothes in the workshop.

Clint pocketed his phone when he spotted Tony moving down the stairs out of the corner of his eyes. The inventor's hair was still curling slightly with dampness from his shower and he looked a lot more at peace than before. Clint knew the feeling; the first shower after a particularly gruesome mission always felt like heaven.

"Looking good there," he greeted, picking up on the tone's of Tony's playful flirting from before. It took two to tango, after all, and it would probably be weird if he'd either stay serious the whole evening or just keep blushing and ducking his head like a fifteen-year-old on his first date.

"Always for you, sweetheart." _Now,_ he felt like himself again, smiling and teasing, it was heaven.

"Then let's go." With cocked eyebrows he offered Clint a hand who just rolled his eyes in response. "Maybe Romanov told you, but it's the same shop as the one where she revealed her identity to me," Tony informed his teammate when they arrived at the doughnut shop half an hour later. "She was pretty rude." He had really liked her at the beginning, Natasha was a really impressive person after all. When he asked her for her input before his birthday party, she was nice and seemed honest. And then, she came out as SHIELD agent and stabbed him with a needle.

Tony shuddered at that memory.

Before the men entered the snack bar, the engineer offered Clint his arm, the way as someone would with his date. "Shall we, love?"

The archer covered his flinch up by crossing his arms as he gave Tony a (hopefully convincing) cocky grin. He _really_ hoped that Tony would blame his blush on the warmth of the Californian evening. _God, this is so ridiculous, Barton. Can't handle a little teasing?  
_  
"Randey's Donuts? You'll have to try harder than that before you get to call me 'love'," he responded, sticking his tongue out for emphasis before he held the door open for Tony. Trying to change the topic at all costs, he shrugged and continued: "And, yeah, Nat can be pretty... special. Don't tell her I told you, but she actually likes you by now."

Normally, it wasn't _that_ easy to make the archer blush, but today Tony did a good job, he thought.

"She likes me? Yeah sure, she nearly killed me when we were sparring last week!" he exclaimed incredulously.

The engineer was honestly surprised by that revelation, but also a bit proud. It was pretty hard to get the spy's sympathy.

"That's just her own way of showing her affection," Clint replied, patting Tony's shoulder. "Don't let that get to you. Have you seen what she does to _me_ when we're in the ring? Basically, her principle is that if she hits you really hard, then you'll be better prepared for when someone else hits you harder. She's practical like that."

Tony gulped, a sudden rush of endorphins washing through his body. "That is... nice... a nice thought." And he meant it.

To cover his sudden sentiment he strolled to the counter, ordering a party box with the most popular toppings. "They're really good. Or do you have a special wish? I'm sure they would manage that."

"Nah, I'm absolutely fine with whatever you got there," Clint replied. "Not picky." He followed Tony to a table and sat down across from the inventor. Selecting a doughnut with purple frosting, just because, he leaned back in his seat and raised his eyebrows at Tony. "So, what are you planning for that week that only works here?"

Now that there was food right in front of him, his stomach remembered its task and growled hungrily. Without looking too closely, he grabbed one of the doughnuts, taking a big bite, before answering.

"Uh, happy you asked!" Tony chewed hastily. "I have a little project I _have_ to show you when I am back! It will be awesome! But that isn't surprising, is it?" The archer grabbed another pastry, but looked actually interested in his work. That made Tony happy, most time his teammates weren't that keen on hearing him blabbering about science. They got bored rather quickly and just thanked for the outcome. Well, except for Bruce, but he didn't count, he was a scientist himself.

"Well, actually I don't have to work here now that I finished the reactor. But, well if I am here I can use the extra space and materials, can't I?"

Tony paused again to swallow another bite, felt how his face stretched to a smile. "And I think I'll try to recreate JARVIS."

Clint leaned forward, his forearms on the table.

"You think you can do that?" he asked, probably looking more wide-eyed than was normal when talking about a computer. But this was _JARVIS_ , dammit, it was totally appropriate. Also, who would be able to be bored - even if they didn't understand a word - when Tony got _that_ look in his eyes? It was contagious. "Oh God, I'd love to have him back. I mean, nothing against FRIDAY, but she doesn't cover for me when I hide in the vents. _And_ she warns the others when I try to prank people. Seriously. That's just no fun. Also, British accent, dude. I bet _he_ would tell me what you're doing down there. With FRIDAY, I don't even have to bother to ask."

Tony nodded furiously, he really appreciated that Clint got his point.

"Exactly! FRIDAY is basic, she is functional, but she hasn't got style. Okay, she's still young, JARVIS had a few decades to evolve, to learn." Oh, how good the engineer could remember that day when he had noticed how independent JARVIS had become. A self-learning artificial intelligence who discovered the world of sarcasm and snark.

FRIDAY was polite and flat.

"I've an old backup somewhere in my personal server. He won't be the same as he was before he..." Tony stumbled for a second. "–before he disappeared, but he will learn again!"

God, how glad was he that he wasn't the only one who missed a computer programme. Even if JARVIS wasn't only a computer programme. Especially not for him. Tony had invented him for a special reason and he craved for him because of the same reason.

Clint was grinning widely and absently reached into the doughnut box while he stated: "Actually, I think it'd be extremely interesting to meet, like, a younger JARVIS. To see how he was before you corrupted him with your wicked, wicked ways." He winked at Tony and suddenly paused. "Hey, wait a moment, if that's a younger version, do you think he'll still be cheeky enough to keep it from you when I replace your coffee with decaf? Because that's an important question, really."

It was incredibly relieving that the previous tension had vanished from the conversation and he didn't have to fend off Tony's taunting, flirtatious comments anymore. This was _much_ more fun.

"So it was really you?" Tony pouted exaggeratedly at Clint. "My own AI! How could he do that to me?"

The engineer remembered the morning very well when he had come upstairs to fuel himself up and could only find decaf. At first, he hadn't noticed because he had been half asleep, but after the first gulp, he'd been disgusted. The other Avengers had been highly amused with his temper tantrum, Tony wasn't embarrassed to defend his rage. No-one should prank somebody who hadn't slept in two days. That wasn't healthy.

"Nah, you have to wait to find out. I'm sure I will be able to corrupt him again so most of you wouldn't be able to tell the difference." He sent the archer a wry grin and took the last doughnut.

"Whoops," Clint made, grinning behind the hand that he had clasped over his mouth. "Don't mind my blabbing. Don't tell young JARVIS that I ratted him out or he won't like me. Although I do admit that was one of the most cruel things I've ever done. Depriving someone of caffeine, how could I?"

Before Tony got to reply anything to that, Clint reached over the table and snatched half of the doughnut from the inventor's fingers. His mouth full, he said: "Oh dear, my hand slipped, how did that happen."

"Hey!" Tony tried to rescue his food, but was too late. "Yeah, how could that happen?"

Sulking, he crossed his arms above his chest looking away. "Tse, I shouldn't let JARVIS near you. You are a lot worse than I am." Tony's eyes laid on Clint's half full coffee mug, a small smile creeping on his lips.

In a sudden movement, he stole the cup and downed the liquid in one big gulp.

"Ooops... Seems to be infectious!"

Yes, the engineer felt really good at the moment. His usual self was back, as well as his maniac urge to create.

"You monster!" Clint gasped in mock outrage. "How _could_ you! You're calling me a bad example, ha. Stealing- uh, I mean, accidentally transferring the ownership of doughnuts is one thing, but coffee? That's a whole other level, lemme tell you."

He leaned back in his seat, chuckling, and glanced out of the window. Although it never seemed to actually get cold in California, the sun was slowly sinking and he should probably be on his way soon if he wanted to arrive before morning. His sleep pattern was messed up enough as it was.

Tony watched Clint who disappeared in his own thoughts. A few moments they sat in silence, until the engineer cleared his throat so that the archer turned his attention back towards him.

"So you're heading back to the headquarters? You know the Tower is still open if you want to live at a nice place as a variation." Tony shrugged casually, it had been pretty quiet after the moving to Upstate. That was one of the reasons he stayed in the new base sometimes.

Clint startled slightly and turned back towards Tony. Out of habit, he reached for his coffee and began to twirl the mug around his fingers when he found it empty.

"Sounds awesome," he replied with a smile. "I liked the Tower. For now, I'll head home though, I haven't been there in a while after the whole... you know. Chaos lately. I should probably check up on everybody and stuff."

"Huh? Home?" Tony was caught off guard. Clint had a home to go back to? Of course he had a home, but the engineer had assumed he would live in one of the SHIELD barracks. He was an agent, after all. Or had been. Whatever.

"Check up on everybody? Huh, I think I kind of missed that. Didn't know you had something like that."

Honestly surprised, he decided to dig deeper. He had known that he hadn't much knowledge about his teammate, but that few. Tony had to change that.

"Uh, yeah, I sorta do," Clint chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Never mentioned that, did I? Well, I never really liked the SHIELD barracks." He shrugged. "So I got a flat in Brooklyn. And, um, I kind of bought the building sometime ago, so I need to check in once in a while to do the, well, landlord things like listening to complaints about how the water is too cold in the mornings and stuff. Haven't been there in a while, I hope they don't believe I'm dead yet."

"You bought a building in Brooklyn? Huh, can't say I saw that coming. But yeah I can see why you searched for something beside those horrible barracks. I just visited one of them once..." He didn't finished the sentence, but he didn't have to. Instead he thought about that mindlessly said last sentence.

In their job, it wasn't uncommon to die, and even less so to die without the knowledge of the outside world. Most people didn't know the people that fought for them, even if they lived next door. Someday, they would notice that their neighbour didn't come home for a while, but nothing more.  
This was something most of the agents had to deal with, to have no one to remember them.  
Well, Tony didn't have that problem. He couldn't go on a weekend trip without appearing in the newspaper. As often as the engineer cursed about his responsibility as a person in the spotlight, it did have its advantages.

"Yeah," Clint agreed, nodding slowly. "It's not... the _worst_ , but when given the choice, I'd rather live in my shabby Brooklyn apartment, really. I'm not sure how long I'm going to stay there, so, I don't know, call ahead when you're coming back? Or I can give you the address – actually, I'm not sure if that's the best of ideas, that quarter is probably not the right place for snobby billionaires." He stuck his tongue out at Tony while he grinned at the mental image of the inventor, impeccably dressed in an Armani suit, wandering the streets of Brooklyn as he searched for that one building. Tony would be really out of place in that scenery.

"Uh, as I said, for you, I would go to the end of the world." Tony wiggled with his eyebrows before handing over his Stark Phone. "Just type your address in it. Don't worry, I'll give you a call so you are prepared for my visit."

While Clint was busy, the engineer threw the empty doughnut box into the trash can and put on his jacket.

Again, Clint suppressed a flinch at Tony's casual flirting. _God, Barton, you sissy._

"Sure," he muttered, taking the offered phone and noting down his address. "Apartment H," he added as he handed the Stark Phone back to Tony. "Can't miss it, big letters on the door and everything. You may have to climb some stairs, though." He pulled his leather jacket tighter around himself as they left the building and a draft of air greeted them outside, not cold, but definitely more chilled than the air-conditioned temperature inside.

"Yeah, no problem. I'm not that old that a few stairs would over-strain me. I keep myself pretty fit, you know. I could show you some exercises..."

Tony poked the archers in leather wrapped shoulder before sliding into the drivers seat. "I'll take you to the jet. And don't you dare practising Mario Kart to be better next time. I will know that!" He threatened playfully while waiting for his teammate.

"I know my exercises _very_ well, Tony, I don't think I need tutoring," Clint shot back with a slightly leering grin. It took two to tango, after all. "And I've always been better at Mario Kart than you, that last round was a mistake. Somehow. I'll prove it to you next time if you don't believe me."

Tony laughed at this statement, but didn't reply anything. So they drove to the airport in silence, with Tony at his side, Clint wasn't bothered with the normal security issues. The engineer wondered how he managed to catch him in time back in New York.

"So, I'll see you in a week? Hope you won't miss me too much." Tony smirked and clapper the other man's shoulder as a good bye.

"Ah, and don't forget that you aren't an actual a bird, so please stay inside for the whole flight."

"Thanks for reminding me, Tony, I would have forgotten," Clint replied with dry sarcasm. "Yeah, see you next week. Maybe with JARVIS in tow." He grinned and shifted the handle of his bow case in one hand. "Alright then." God, he hated goodbyes. He was so used to being friends with agents that each time he wished someone goodbye it felt like it might be the last time.

Tony resisted the urge to reply something again, he wouldn't let this goodbye get awkward. He'd had enough awkward for one day already.

Without hesitation, he shooed Clint into the jet and turned when he saw how his teammate slid into one of the seats. Tony was gone before the archer could have time to look out of the window again, he was good at disappearing after all.

An hour later, the engineer was back at the workshop, enthusiastically rubbing his hands and facing his first project. Oh, that would be so fantastic.

Clint actually managed to sleep during most of the flight. It felt like his body was demanding years of sleep back that he had denied it, and for some reason, it wanted them _now_.

It was the middle of the night when they landed in New York and since it was dark anyway, he supposed that nobody would recognise him being a bad example as he drove home on the motorcycle without bothering to find his helmet.

The building was silent, just the sound of his feet and the jingling of his keys filled the staircase as he climbed up to his apartment and unlocked the door. Flicking the light switch on, he looked around; some old coffee mugs, an old pizza carton or two, nothing too bad.

He smiled at the clicking of claws on the wooden floor and knelt down as Lucky practically jumped him. Quietly, he murmured: "Yeah, good boy. That's a good boy. Has Grills been feeding you alright? Yeah? I know, I was gone a while, but I'm back now."

One of the things Tony appreciated the most of his engineering work was that it was challenging. It was ideal to relax his mind from unwanted thoughts, without the boringness of doing _nothing_.

A while ago, Bruce had called it Tony's personal meditation system, and he had been right. It was the beginning of the third day after Clint had left Malibu. Everything had gone alright up till now, he had finished the archer's gift a few minutes ago and now, Tony thought about napping on the workshops sofa.

He had worked the last days straight to build Clint's present, a new pair of reading glasses with an extra portion 'Stark' in it. Now, he would have Stark glasses.

The engineer was a bit proud, he just would have to link the glasses with JARVIS as soon as he had revived him and everything would be finished.

Satisfied in a way only working could make him, he threw himself into the cushions. It should be easy to fall asleep now. Except that it wasn't.

"Yeah, of course. I'll be back. Soon," Clint promised. He was draped over the couch and tried to defend the last piece of pizza from Lucky while at the same time fending off Natasha's concerns over the phone. "Look, I'm fine. Seriously. Nothing happened."

"Yes, and isn't that the problem," she sighed. "Honestly now, Clint. Don't make me come over there. Why do you insist on staying there and moping?"

"I'm not moping and nothing happened!" Clint snapped aggressively. The other end of the line stayed silent and her gave up after a few seconds, heaving a sigh. "We went out for dinner," he muttered.

"Which would be a good thing if not for the obvious 'but' in the room."

"Ha ha. Yeah. _But_ Tony is crushing on Steve. Hard. And still, he just _has_ to be a giant teasing flirt all evening and it fucking works on me." He took a bite of his pizza and held the rest out to Lucky on defeat.

"So you're moping right now," Natasha concluded.

"Shut up," Clint sighed tiredly.

It seems to be an unwritten rule that your brain decides it is a good idea to work trough the topics you've successfully avoided the whole day just when you try to fall asleep.

Now, Tony was stretched out on a comfy sofa, already half asleep and drained out, but his thoughts keep wandering to the other avengers. Or, to be more precise, Steve.

The engineer was fully aware that he should deal with the situation concerning the Captain, but he didn't want to. Same as every time since he noticed that something was different with Steve.

At first, Tony had detested the man who was the personalisation if a hero to nearly everyone, but after the battle of New York, he had started to accept him as team leader.

Quite a while after that, Tony had wondered why he was so obsessed with teasing Steve and getting his attention. Yes, he did that a lot with other people, but maybe not that obsessive?

Groaning, the man turned on his side, closed his eyes tightly, trying to shut his mind down to get some sleep. But like every time you tried not to think, it just got worse.

In the end, Tony forced himself to rewrite JARVIS extensional code in his head, which led fortunately into an exhausted sleep.

Clint ended up muting his phone and stuffing it between the couch cushions at some point during the fourth day. He was officially, royally screwed and Natasha didn't seem like she was going to let that go anytime soon. He tried to distract himself by attending the weekly grill night that the inhabitants of the building had made into a tradition and listening to the chit-chat among them, but it wasn't really effective.

On the fifth day, he decided that it was about fucking time that he got his mind off Tony's mocking advances. He grabbed his jacket, scratched Lucky behind the ears and left the flat, shuddering in the chilled air outside. If runs with the dog and chattering neighbours couldn't take his mind off the inventor, maybe something else would.

Tony was finished early. After his nap on the sofa, he pulled unnecessary night shifts because he couldn't wait to finish his artificial intelligence. It had been way too long since he had been scolded by his British butler.

Shortly after midday of the fifth day, the engineer turned JARVIS on again. He wasn't embarrassed to say that his legs turned into jelly the moment the AI's voice sounded trough the workshop.

"Hey JARVIS, good to have you back buddy!" Tony allowed himself a moment of rest when he slumped back in his chair. It had really worked.

Even if he had sounded pretty optimistic back in the doughnut shop in front of Clint, he hadn't been sure if JARVIS could get restored.

"It's a pleasure to be back, sir." Smiling widely, Tony hooked the AI into his computer systems he had in this house and informed JARVIS on this way about the past years. That was just a provisorium, but the engineer knew, as soon as the AI was back on full capacity, it would reach out for missing or important information itself.

"Sir, do you want to make a voice change?", JARVIS asked after a few minutes of processoring.

Tony frowned in confusion. "Why should I?"

"I thought it could led to confusion the moment when I got into contact with the Vision, sir."

The engineer stopped on his way to the coffee machine to think about that. "Well, you could be right..." The mental image of this was fantastic, this could provoke that many tricks. "But you were the first with that voice, you have the privilege. And I like your voice, I missed it over FRIDAY's."

It took the AI a second to answer, most likely it informed itself about his replacement. "I am flattered, sir." And the best thing for Tony was, JARVIS sounded like he would mean it.

Clint ended up in a bar with music so loud that he decided to tune his hearing aids down while looking around. He nursed his beer, scanning the crowd in the too-small room. For a brief second, he glanced at a tall, blonde boy in his mid-twenties, but quickly tore his eyes away again. The guy reminded him far too much of Steve, plus he was some years too young. The next one who caught his eye was slightly shorter, with jet-black hair and an undercut, but he looked like he was no day older than eighteen, so he was definitely out, too.

"Looking for someone in particular?"

The archer turned around to face the man who had spoken to him. The looks were about right; short, brown hair, dark eyes and a lean, but not thin figure. He lacked the goatee and was a little bit too tall, but the cocky half-grin and the mischievous sparkle in his eyes reminded Clint of Tony.

 _Wait, since when do I choose the people I plan to get laid by after how similar they are to Tony?_

"Not really," he responded then raised an eyebrow. "You?"

"I think I found someone," the brunet replied with a wink and Clint grinned, pushing every thought of Tony and/or Steve resolutely to the back of his mind.

"Aren't you a little young?" he asked. There wasn't that much of an age difference, maybe five, eight years at most, but he was curious about how the younger man would react to a little teasing.

"Nah, I'm just looking good for my age," came the reply. It had some of Tony's cockiness, but there was still a hint of uncertainty in it that the billionaire definitely wouldn't have had. "Kyle, by the way."

"Francis," Clint replied smoothly.

Now that JARVIS was back online, he hurried to disconnect FRIDAY from the few servers he had led her into.

Actually, Tony had planned to use his Jet to fly back to New York, but apparently, SHIELD, Clint or whoever was responsible for that hadn't send it back to the airport. Maybe they hadn't thought about an early return.

But that wasn't such a great problem, now that the arc reactor was back in its right place he could use one of his suits to fly back. It was faster any ways because he didn't care about permitted air travel. He was Tony Stark, _Iron Man_ , he could fly where he wanted to fly.

The only other problem he had was that he hadn't brought one of the suits with him. He had been too distracted by the car battery and his abrupt departure.

"Hey JARVIS, time to shine. Be a dear an bring me the next suit nearby, would you?" After the destruction of his suits he had, of course, built some new ones. Mostly of them had now the function to assemble even over long distance, but it worked even better with JARVIS in control.

"Done, sir. The Mark XXXII will arrive in presumably thirteen minutes."

Tony closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his precious AI and friend back at his side.  
The moment when the suit closed itself smoothly around the engineer's frame and the HUD lighted up, as well as JARVIS voice, it really felt like coming home.

"So buddy, let's visit Barton, can't wait to hear what he says about my little present." Now that the suit wasn't empty, he wasn't able to fly that fast anymore, but that was okay, Tony loved flying.

"I think he will be very pleased. Sir's presents are always very amusing."

The engineer scoffed fondly and concentrated on the suit operations. He felt definitely more secure with JARVIS as his co-pilot, there was no mistaking it.

"Hey, could you call Barton for me? He wanted a warning before I drop by." Besides the smooth "of course, sir", the little window of an outgoing call appeared at the edge of his HUD. "Mh, that's odd. Why doesn't he answer? He wanted me to call." Tony shrugged inwardly, because the suit wasn't made for this kind of movement, and started a little flight show to 'rearrange himself with JARVIS' of course.

The next time the engineer called was when he already reached the outskirts of New York, but again, there was no answer. A little confused, he told JARVIS to text Natasha instead, asking if there had been an 'Avengers Assemble' or if she knew if Clint was at home.

Hardly one hour and a cab ride later, Clint stumbled through the door of his apartment, his hands never leaving Kyle's chest for longer than strictly necessary. While he pulled the slightly taller man up the stairs towards the storey that housed bed and bathroom, he unbuttoned the other's shirt and latched on to his neck.

About ten minutes after that, he was squirming on the mattress and hissing at Kyle that "Jesus, I'll survive a little rough handling, stop treating me like a sixteen-year-old virgin!" while he gripped at the taller man's shoulders and pulled him down for a forceful, messy kiss.

 _Finally_ , he felt Kyle pushing in and successfully silencing the thoughts of Tony, Steve and whoever-the-fuck-else as Clint arched his back and clenched his fists around the sheets on the bed with a low, keening sound. Admittedly, it _had_ been a while, but the sharp edge of pain was exactly what he needed right now to be able to not focus on anything else for a few minutes.

For an indefinite amount of time, his world narrowed down to pure sensation, to hands and teeth and heated touches. He was whimpering with every thrust from Kyle now, one of his hands fisted in the other's hair and the other gripping the sheets over his heads as he arched into every bit of contact that was possible.

Grinning, Tony landed on the curb not far away from Clint's apartment. Natasha had told him that the archer was indeed still at home, just annoyed by her calls. But it didn't bother the engineer that much, maybe he had one of his first possibilities a to sneak up on the agent. Tony couldn't wait to see Clint's face when he appeared in his house without him noticing.

A bit reluctantly, he left the suit, waited for it to fold itself together into a handy suitcase and searched for the address that he had been given.

The archer had been right, it wasn't the most appealing location to live in, but Tony had seen worse. Next to the door were three people, a woman and two men, talking while smoking a cigarette.

"Hey, I am a friend of Clint Barton. could you tell me on which floor he lives, he forgot to tell me." The people seemed a little suspicious, this wasn't the best location after all, but then, Tony heard the woman whisper his name to the other two.

Only a few minutes later, he knew everything he wanted to and headed upstairs to Clint's loft. Sometimes his name really opened doors, metaphorically as well as literally. To Tony's suppose the next door, the one marked with an H, didn't need to be opened, the apartment door wasn't closed properly so he could glimpse inside. _Well that's almost too easy, Barton._

Slowly, he opened the door a bit more, happy that it didn't squeak like most doors would, and took a quick look around. Empty.

Except for the muffled sound from above. Curiously, Tony entered the apartment, closing the door behind himself silently. It was a very nice flat, and it was clearly Barton. Not only because of the shooting targets next to the television, but the whole feeling matched its owner.

This time, a whimper sounded trough the living space and provoked Tony to tilt his head to the ceiling. A staircase led to a bedroom on some sort of rood loft. _The hawk's nest._ He smirked, that was really cute, he could imagine to tease his teammate about that later.

As soundlessly as possible the engineer set down his armour and tiptoed upstairs, where the noises led him too. It didn't sound like someone was in distress, so Tony didn't bother to be worried, and he was right. Between rumpled bed sheets and under a brown-haired man lay Clint Barton, flushed and clearly pleased.

No surprise that he hadn't answered the phone.

Clint pressed the back of his hand against his lips to muffle his whimpers while he wrapped his legs around Kyle's waist, tilting his hips up further. The change in angle caused the brunet's next thrust to hit that one spot and Clint threw his head back as he briefly saw stars.

He could sense Kyle leaning down and felt the man's breath on his throat for a second before there was a tentative nip on his skin. The archer's breath hitched and he tilted his head back even further, baring his neck, and felt Kyle biting down harder in response while, at the same time, hitting his prostate dead-on with almost every thrust. Clint choked on a moan, a familiar heat coiling in his belly while Kyle's movements began to grow more shallow and erratic.

When the brunet reached down between their bodies to take a hold of the archer's length, beginning to stroke in time with his thrusts, the sensations didn't take long to push Clint over the edge. He came with a breathy moan, his whole body going rigid for a moment as the world momentarily lost focus around him.

Kyle followed a few moments later and stilled above Clint while they both gasped for air, slowly coming down from their high. Then, the brunet rolled off to the side and, while blearily blinking up at the ceiling, Clint absently noticed him knotting up the condom and tossing it into the next waste basket.

"'m gonna get a washcloth," he muttered after a while, slowly sitting up and suppressing a wince in the progress. He padded over towards the bathroom, where he wiped himself down and then tossed a fresh, warm cloth towards Kyle on the bed. "Something to drink?" he offered, slipping into a bathrobe. "I'm having something."

Still slightly dazed and pleasantly calm, he made his way towards the stairs downwards. After the first three steps, he nearly lost his balance when he glanced down towards the kitchenette and spotted _Tony_ , sprawled out on his couch like he owned the place.

"What the _fuck_!" Clint exclaimed, grabbing a hold on the railing as he froze, staring down at the inventor with wide eyes.

For a moment, Tony felt a little guilty when he made himself comfortable on Clint's couch. It was very mean to stay at the apartment when he knew very well which activities his teammate pursued.

But he couldn't help it, it was too tempting to see the archer's reaction. And it was _so_ worth it. Clint looked like he would either scream or faint in the next second, it was hilarious.

"Hey Barton, you left the door open and I thought I wait until you finished your business." Tony smirked and took a sip of his drink.

The archer stared at his uninvited guest for a few seconds, trying to come up with something to say and failing. Miserably.

The one who broke the silence was Kyle, who sat up halfway in the bed and called out: "Now, that's awkward. Is that your boyfriend?"


	8. Chapter 8

"Now, that's awkward. Is that your boyfriend?" 

"No!" Clint responded hastily, throwing a glance over his shoulder. "Just, um- oh, Jesus. Alright. That's not the worst thing I've been caught doing." He sighed, trying to ignore the hysteria on the back of his mind. _Tony_ of all people - and he had _just_ managed to forget about him for a few minutes. Running a hand through his tousled hair, he repeated: "Alright." Slowly, he made his way down the stairs, tucking the bathrobe around himself properly. "I'd offer you something to drink, but apparently, you found everything." Clint's gaze wandered to Lucky, who was curled up on the floor next to Tony. " _You_ , Pizza Dog, are a fucking traitor." He got a cheerful wag of the dog's tail in response.

 _Great_. He probably looked _more_ flushed than ten minutes before.

Tony grinned down at the dog. "He's got a good taste in people, apparently." He greeted the man who had sat up on Clint's bed casually. The guy seemed to be alright.

"Didn't know you have a dog, or are gay for that matter." The archer tried to hide his discomfort through opening a bottle of juice and downing it in a few seconds.

"Well," Clint said slowly, screwing the cap back on and avoiding Tony's eyes, "you never stop learning, huh? And Lucky is, well. He sort of saved my life a while ago, so I adopted him, I suppose." 

He held another small bottle of juice out to Kyle, who descended the stairs while he buttoned up his shirt. The brunet accepted it gratefully and brushed a sweaty strand of hair away from his forehead while Clint leaned back against the kitchen counter and looked back and forth between his guests. Maybe, just maybe, Kyle was different enough from Tony that the inventor wouldn't notice Clint had a... certain type. 

A few seconds no one said a word, the men were just drinking and watching each other more or less interestedly.

Clint's visitor raised his eyebrows and introduced himself as Kyle. Tony was curious to find out more about the archer's private life, there was so much he didn't know about him.

"So, you aren't... together?" he assumed, still smiling. It hadn't sounded like both of them new each other very long earlier.

"No, I'm working in a bar not far from here, we were just having a little fun."

Clint really looked like he wanted to bury himself far far away. Again there was a rush of guilt in Tony's mind, but it vanished as soon as Kyle sat himself next to him on the sofa and honestly tried to start a conversation. He really couldn't complain about his teammate's choice of partner.

"Hey, Roman- um, Natasha didn't know about this, did she?" Tony asked cautiously. He wasn't sure if he should call the other agent by her real name, maybe that was a no go in front of strangers? 

"Natasha?" Now Kyle was interested, too. 

Clint groaned and responded: "No, of course she didn't. Natasha doesn't have to know everything." With a glance towards Kyle, he added: "She's a friend. Basically my sister." Turning back towards Tony, he continued: "I mean, you don't tell Rhodey each time you sleep with someone, do you?" 

"I would tell him, but he doesn't want me to." Tony shrugged. There had been a time, back at the MIT, that Rhodey was informed about every time the engineer hat took someone in his room. "So you really don't crush on Natasha?" The archer sighed tiredly, but Kyle seemed to have a lot of fun. The guy reminded him a bit of himself, Tony would have reacted similarly if he had been in his situation.

"Wow, I could have sworn that your have something with her." At this moment he was very glad he hadn't made a bet with Sam about that.

The archer wanted to hide behind his bottle, but since he had already drained it, he just set it aside with a sigh. 

"Nope, definitely, absolutely not crushing on Natasha," he replied. "Never have been." With a shrug, _what's the worst that could happen now anyway_ , he elaborated: "Don't swing that way. The word's gay, not bi. Now, if Natasha were Nathaniel, that might be a subject worth discussing, but honestly, she's more of a sister. Or babysitter, if you ask her. And you," he pointed a finger at Kyle, "you don't even know who Natasha is. Don't team up with that guy now, that's just not fair." 

Tony raised from the sofa and strolled over to Clint. "Life is not fair, Birdie." He patted the other one's shoulder in a companionable way. "As you said, you never stop learning. So, the reason I am here," the engineer reached into his pocket, "is this."

Clint didn't seem to know why him was given a small box with unknown content. "Open it. It's a gift for your help earlier. So, hope you like it." 

Now it was the engineer who was nervous, most people disliked his presents, he wasn't that good with this things. 

Curiously, Clint took the small box from Tony. The outside was plain and simple, there was nothing to indicate what the content might be, so he snapped it open and stared at the glasses inside for a second before he grinned up at Tony. 

"Wait, are those –" He put them on and blinked in surprise. "Wow. Don't answer that question, but did you read my file to find my lens prescription or something?" He experimentally flipped open a leaflet from the pizzeria nearby and skimmed the contents. "Because these are perfect." 

Kyle next to him snickered. "Are you _sure_ he's not your boyfriend?" 

Tony stared at the archer proudly, the glasses fit him a lot better than his old ones. And he looked very happy about his present, which made it all even better. Both of them ignored Kyle for the moment.

"Ah, they are not only normal glasses, they've got a HUD and access to JARVIS." Clint looked up, a little surprised. "JARVIS is online again but it will take some time to implement him to everything again. So for now, only the both of us have access to him. Hope you feel honoured about that, I don't grant this everyone."

Clint beamed at the inventor. "Alright, that's _awesome_. So I just– what do I do?" 

"You do not need to do anything," JARVIS' smooth voice responded close to his ear. 

Clint jumped in surprise and then grinned even more widely. "Holy shit. Welcome back, buddy!" Looking over, he asked Tony: "So, how much does he remember?" Before he could completely forget about Kyle, he turned into the man's direction and answered the question from before: "And, um, no. Pretty sure, sadly. And before you ask, we're not crazy, although I'll admit that we probably do look the part right now."

"Oh Barton, I am insulted, of course I am crazy! That comes with the name." Tony grinned to Kyle who was clearly enjoying their conversation. He wanted to continue teasing Clint when JARVIS voice sounded again. 

"I am afraid I don't remember your encounters with my previous setups, but if there is something you need, I would be happy to search through accessible data to compensate for that loss." 

Again, Tony could witness the honest joy to have the AI around and he didn't regret giving Clint that feature.

The archer beamed. "Yeah, JARVIS, you do that. And order some decaf to the Tower when you're at it already." He stuck his tongue out in Tony's direction.

Kyle set his bottle down on the kitchen counter and chimed in with a grin: "I'll leave you two to it, gotta get home sometime, too." He winked in Clint's direction and picked his jacked up from where it lay discarded near the door. 

"Nighty-night," Clint replied with a small wave while the brunet slipped through the door. For a brief moment, he wondered whether Kyle had really not recognised either of them (Tony Stark, for god's sake) or if he was just tactful enough not to say anything. 

He picked the bottle up and raised his eyebrows when he noticed that Kyle had scribbled something on the label; a number and underneath 'in case he frustrates you again'. The archer huffed with a head-shake; for heaven's sake, he wasn't that obvious, was he?! 

"Nighty-night?" Tony raised an eyebrow but couldn't resist a giggle. "He seems nice, I like him. You would make a good couple. Are you sure that it was one time only?" 

Of course the engineer had noticed the little note scribbled on the bottle, he himself had got those more often than he could remember. "He seemed to be interested." Tony winked and watches Clint expectantly. 

The archer snorted quietly. 

"I'll keep his number if that makes you happy," he responded drily. "But actually, he's not my..." He trailed off, noticing where the sentence was going, and amended: "Alright, so he is my type, but still. I dunno." _Got someone else in mind. And the guy still thinks my name is Francis, for god's sake._

Now Tony was interested. The last times they had touched this topic, the archer had more or less subtly tried to deny an answer. Now the engineer had a good opportunity to gather some information.

"He is? What is your type, then?" 

For a moment Tony recreated an imaginary picture of Kyle to inspect him further. What of him had cause Clint's interest?

"Cocky brunets," Clint replied without thinking and then looked up at Tony, slightly startled. He _really_ shouldn't talk to anyone he had secrets from when he'd had sex before that. Other than Natasha, he had never learned how to be professional and full-on Agent right after an encounter like that; it left him far more open and unguarded than was probably healthy in his line of work. Then again, he didn't usually work by seducing his targets, so that was alright.

"Huh." The engineer shoot him a grin. "Barton, I am discovering a whole new person under the guy I knew." 

When Clint didn't answer right away and again seemed to want to end the conversation, Tony couldn't resist to add: "You know, if that's the case and you're frustrated you can just come to me. You don't have to hook up with a stranger."

 _Now because of whom would I be frustrated enough to hook up with someone random?_ Clint thought sarcastically. He ripped the tag with the number off the bottle and shoved it into the pocket of his bathrobe.

"Stop making fun of the gay guy," he murmured. "Okay, so I need a shower and then, I'm going to sleep. Unless we have an alarm, I'm going to do that for about twelve hours and since I think it's well past midnight now, you should probably go home, too. Unless you want to crash on my couch. You won't get the bed, though." 

He could probably have been a little more subtle about that, but it was very likely that he'd do something stupid if he stayed in Tony's company for much longer. Demonstratively, Clint stifled a yawn and shrugged apologetically. 

"I didn't make fun of you, I would be way more subtle." Tony stretched himself a bit and grabbed his suitcase. "Okay, maybe not."

Knowing when he was dismissed, he said his goodbyes without missing to give Clint a cocky smile and left the apartment. This time, the archer closed the door properly. Tony chuckled in his whole way downstairs before he put his armour on again.

Only when he was back in the headquarters, Steve waiting on the entrance, arms crossed, he knew that he'd forgotten that he still had to be debriefed.

Clint slumped with his back against the door as soon as it was shut, listening to Tony's footsteps as the inventor descended the stairs. 

God, this guy was going to be the end of him. 

He only noticed that he had been staring off into nothing when Lucky nudged his leg, whining softly. Absently, he reached down to pat the dog's head and muttered: "No pizza for you today. You're just getting dog food, you spoiled little brat."

He filled Lucky's bowl, scratched him behind the ears again and then padded back up the stairs. True to his word, he entered the bathroom and slipped out of his fluffy purple bathrobe (Jesus, he'd been talking to Tony while wearing a _fluffy purple bathrobe_ , it was hard to make that any gayer), plucked the hearing aids out of his ears and set the glasses - did he have to call them Stark Glasses? - aside.

Half an hour later, Clint was sound asleep. 

"Oh come on Cap, give me a break," Tony whined at Steve's hard and merciless stare. "Damn..." Tony followed his teammate reluctantly, of course he couldn't be lucky twice a day.

"What should I tell you anyway? I'm sure you've debriefed Barton last week. Nothing to add here. Was unconscious most of the time." Steve only gave him a look before entering the conference room.

The soldier sat down at the table, his arms crossed in front of his broad chest as he replied: "I'd be lying if I said I was surprised, but could you at least answer your phone when you're gone for nearly a week? And no, I did not debrief Barton because he was hiding in his apartment after returning from Malibu. I only knew _that_ from Natasha, by the way, not because he deigned to tell me himself. Hopefully, he swings his..." He seemed to bite back a very un-Cap-like word, pausing for a split-second before finishing: "...backside to HQ soon or I'll actually send send Natasha to get him." He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Alright, so I know it's late, but I also know that you never sleep when you're supposed to, so let's get this over with, okay?"

Tony tried to look scandalised at Steve's obvious mood, but he failed to bite back his smirk at Barton's behaviour. Now he had a partner in crime for the next time he wanted to skip the debrief, and a new hiding place, too.

"So... yeah." The engineer sobered up a bit when he remembered his kidnapping. "As I said, don't remember that much. I woke up in an cold cellar don't-know-where, restrained at a fucking metal grid and they tried to suck out the reactors energy." A bit annoyed he waved his hand when Cap tried to interrupt. "No I don't know how, I was a bit... out if it." A shudder shook Tony's body. "They've used wires but I didn't see much more. No one came in until Barton showed up, but-" 

He interrupted himself, reluctant to point this particular thing out. 

"But?" Steve asked carefully, leaning forward slightly. His tone was softer than before; he might be annoyed by the disappearance of his teammates, but that didn't make him less tactful in matters like these. He remembered Bucky's state after being held captive by Hydra just all too well, and he had seen Tony right after Clint had gotten him out of that room. He knew he shouldn't press the matter too hard. Still, he added gently: "We need every bit of information we can get if we want to get a hold of them. It's a bit more difficult, now that we don't have SHIELD and their network anymore." 

Tony breathed deeply to calm down, ignoring the tingling sensation produced by the care Steve showed towards him. 

"Nothing important...", he mumbled, "but they didn't have to come in. Without the power of the reactor I would simply have died, they didn't have to do anything. If Barton hadn't shown up at that time..." It wasn't necessary to complete the sentence, Tony just wanted in his workshop, he had stuff to do.

Steve inhaled sharply and swallowed once before he nodded curtly. He wasn't going to get any more information out of Tony, the engineer couldn't remember things he hadn't been conscious for, after all. 

Also, even if he was the one who urged everyone to attend and be diligent about them, it wasn't like Steve had _fun_ at debriefings. He wasn't going to complain about a shorter once.

He stood up, pushing his chair back, and rounded the table on his way out. "Alright, then I suppose that's it already, I got the rest from the others," he stated, clapping a hand on Tony's shoulder and leaving it there while he continued: "Would it be too much to ask for if you got some sleep?" 

To say Tony was suprised at the short debrief would have been an understatement. But he wouldn't complain, instead he blinked suspiciously at Steve at this more unusual gesture. Normally he was the only team member who initiated body contact and then not with Steve. Not anymore. 

A bit out of concept, he stumbled a bit about his snappy answer. "Uh, yeah, don't know... Maybe... I can try..." 

Tony frowned at himself, that was really embarrassing he should get a grip on himself. "You know, jet lag... But I think I could use a bit of sleep." Hastily he raised from his chair as well and wanted to leave before Steve could change his mind concerning the debrief. 

"You definitely could," Steve agreed lightly, a small smile on his lips, holding the door open for Tony. "I mean, I've seen you sleep-deprived before, but it was never bad enough that you started stuttering." That had never happened, not even when Steve had been convinced that there was more caffeine than oxygen in the engineer's bloodstream. 

"I've seen weirder things." Tony shrugged, happy about that easy explanation. "Thanks." With a nod, the engineer walked trough the hallway without looking back. 

No, he wouldn't go to his room now, he needed something to do. 

"JARVIS, what do you think, buddy, should we hook you up into the base?" His fingers flickered fast about his stark phone's screen. 

"It wouldn't change your decision, if I told you that a short delay wouldn't cause any harm, would it sir?" Tony smirked at the smooth voice that sounded from his phone. "You know me too good, J. Even your younger self."

Clint woke up sightly sore, but not sore enough to stop him from going on a morning run with Lucky, even in the cold, drizzling rain. He'd left the dog alone for quite a while and he was about to leave for HQ again, he should spoil him at least a little. Maybe he'd just bring him to HQ someday, he spent more time there than anywhere else anyway. 

At about ten in the morning, he dismounted his motorcycle on their compounds in Upstate New York, his bow case in one hand and the Stark Glasses, packed back neatly into their case, in the back pocket of his jeans. 

He narrowed his eyes as he looked over towards the entrance and spotted a person, slowly, hesitantly nearing the doors. Was that...? 

Clint broke into a run, a grin spreading on his face as he crossed the distance between the figure and himself in less than a minute, and called out as soon as he was close enough: "Now look who returned from their vacation! How are the Fijis?" 

Bruce startled and turned to face the archer with a slightly sheepish smile on his face, a small duffel bag slung over his shoulder and slightly more stubble on his face than usual.

"Nice," he answered, running a hand through his messy curls. "Quiet. Lots of time to think." 

Clint raised his eyebrows. "And I suppose it got boring without your really, really awesome team, right?" 

The physicist huffed a small, quiet laugh. "Yeah, that, too." He looked up at the building, shuffling on his feet uncertainly. "Well, I thought that I maybe... um..." 

"...keep company to the poor, poor Tony Stark again, who is crying himself to sleep every day because he has no-one to keep up with him anymore?" Clint offered with a wink. 

"Exactly," Bruce nodded. 

"Awesome." Clint pulled his phone out, intent on finding out whether Tony had returned to the Avengers Tower or to HQ (for Bruce's sake only, of course), but impatiently decided that texting would take too long. "Give me just a second," he said, raising a hand while he pulled the Glasses from his pocket and put them on. "JARVIS? Where's Tony? Tell him he's got a guest." With a wink, he opened the door and gestured for Bruce to come in. 

"Sir, Mister Barton asked me to inform you that there is a guest at the HQ's entrance."

Confused, Tony looked up from his work on the external Stark Server in this workshop. "A guest? Huh, kay. I'll just finish that code," he answered and downed his cup of coffee.

On his way to the front door the engineer wondered who could have come for him. After all, he didn't have that many friends who would visit him. Maybe it was Rhodey? He hadn't heard from him in a while.

"Bruce?" Tony stopped dead in his track, incredulously staring at his fellow scientist.

"Hey Tony." He was greeted by Bruce's usual half smile, that instantly provoked a mirror expression on his own face. 

"Nice to have you back, big guy." Tony closed the gap between him and the silent visitor and tugged him into a warm hug. He had really missed him in the last months. 

"I am happy to be back, I suppose." Only now Tony turned to greet Clint as well. "Hey Barton, hope you're recovered from last night?" 

Clint felt the tips of his ears going red and pocketed the Stark Glasses again – he mostly needed them for reading, after all – while he answered: "Well, I'm not too sore to take Lucky on a run, so I guess that's a yes." He was resolutely _not_ jealous of Bruce getting hugged by Tony. No way. 

God, now that Clint was back, he was going to have to deal with Natasha's inevitable speech on how he couldn't solve his problems by holing up in his apartment for days on end. 

Blinking, he added in Bruce direction: "And this is _not_ what he makes it sound like." 

"It's not?", the engineer asked in exaggerated indignancy. "That hurts, Barton, why do you keep saying those bad things?"

Bruce rolled his eyes at his pretended sniffle and grabbed Tony's arm to stop him. "Tony..." 

He huffed at that scolding and bit back a sullen "you're all teaming up against me". Instead, he thought about warning the archer about the debriefing. "Ah Barton, Steve seemed a little pissed tonight, he still wants to debrief you. I wasn't that great of a help, so I hope you can fill in the missing things?"

Clint grimaced. Drily, he answered: "Oh, debriefings, whoo-hoo. I'm so excited. That's gonna be _so_ fun." He rolled his eyes and continued in a more neutral tone: "So, since Steve and Nat are waiting to rip my head off and Tony has been, and I quote, 'science-bro-deprived' for too long, I'll leave you two to whatever you're doing while I hope that I make it back to my room without being caught by the rest." He lazily saluted with two fingers. "See you for dinner?"

"Dinner? No... I just got him back! There is so much to do! No time to eat! Science is waiting!" Bruce ignored Tony's whining when he agreed to drag his science bro into the kitchen later that day.  
After the group parted, the engineer led Bruce into his workshop while complaining about the poor architecture and equipment of the new Avengers Base. The physicist chuckled affectionately but remained silent until the lab door closed behind them.

"So you've recreated JARVIS?" he asked interestedly and earned that rare shine in Tony's eyes. 

"Yes Doktor Banner, but I am afraid I am not in my whole capacity." The engineer had connected his phone to the room's electronic and continued to make JARVIS connection permanent again.

"That's fantastic! Even if you're not your old self, it's a good start." 

Clint looked after the two, hands on his hips and shaking his head with a small smile before he headed back towards his room. He did actually manage to get there without meeting anyone in the hallways; however, Steve caught him when he was on his way out again and wasted no time dragging him to one of the conference rooms. God, that guy handled debriefs almost as dutifully as Phil had.

And wasn't that the right thought to bring his mood down to ground zero again. 

He slumped into one of the chairs in the room, leaning back with his arms crossed in front of his chest as he began: "Alright, so I'm gonna make this short. There was that archer who had an awesome team, but for some reason or the other, they refused to help him in getting their team mate back after he'd been captured by some stereotypical gang of goons." 

"Clint, please," Steve sighed exasperatedly. 

The archer took a moment to glare at him, but then conceded: "Fine. You know the beginning, I sneaked off and located him via the tracker in the suit – which you took with you when we left, I hope?" At Steve's affirming nod, he continued: "Getting in wasn't too hard, they were pretty badly organised. Their tech looked like something, though, and I'm not sure if I even want to know what they planned to do or fuel with the reactor's power." Which was a lie; he definitely wanted, _needed_ to know about that. "I unhooked Tony from that... machine, whatever, because the reactor kept flickering, which is really fucking disturbing, lemme tell you, and you were there for the rest. That's it, really. The only complicated thing about that mission was to get you guys to tag along." No, he wasn't going to get over that anytime soon. An hour later and they might not have gotten Tony out alive. He'd been barely conscious when Clint had found him, after all, and that was after less than a day under the 'care' of his kidnappers.

"Yes, yes, I am fantastic, you can chat with JARVIS later." Tony leaned against the workbench staring intently at Bruce who seemed irritated about that abrupt interruption.

"What did you think to just go hiding for nine months? Without a goodbye or even a postcard?" Suddenly, the engineer wasn't in that playful mood anymore, he looked serious and maybe even a little hurt.

"I'm sorry. When I woke up somewhere on an island, I thought about coming back, but..." Bruce sighed soundlessly and slumped a bit. "Maybe some time alone had been a good idea. Time to think."

The scientist winced at the slapping sound of Tony's hand on the table. "Bullshit! Bruce! If you need a vacation that's no problem! God, just tell me, I would give you the keys to my holiday mansion. Hell, I would buy you an own one!" His fist hit the bench again. "But just tell me! I haven't heard from you or the other guy since Ultron. Bruce, I was worried!" 

Steve sighed, some defensiveness creeping into his body language as he replied: "Look, Clint, none of us meant that in a harmful way –"

"Oh, seriously, that's the argument you're going with?" the archer interrupted. "'We didn't mean it in a bad way, sorry that we very nearly _let you die_ because we couldn't fucking come to an agreement, Tony!' Yeah, I can absolutely see your point there, Steve, that seems totally legit." 

"You're making an unnecessary fuss out of this, nothing actually _happened_ ," Steve snapped. 

"Nothing actually happened?" Clint echoed incredulously. "Excuse you, did you _see_ Tony afterwards? He was literally not able to stay on his feet and was _this_ close from permanently going into cardiac arrest, but hey, he didn't die, so it's okay!" He wasn't quite yelling yet, but it was a very close call. "So 'nothing happened', and what if he had died? What if I hadn't broken your precious rules and we'd found him dead there? What then, Steve?"

"He knows what we're doing here, he's aware of the risks," the Captain shot back. "If not, he could've stayed in his business world and he knows that, he's not dumb. It happens in this field, you should know that, you lose soldiers –"

"But Tony's not a soldier!" Clint screamed, standing so abruptly that his chair toppled to the ground with a clatter, his fists on the table as he leaned towards Steve. "He's _not_ , he's your fucking teammate and I can't _believe_ how indifferent you are about this!" 

Steve very nearly matched him in volume as he shouted back: "I'm not indifferent, I'm realistic, that doesn't mean it doesn't bother me, or that I'm _indifferent_! How did you survive this long in your job if you can't handle something like that?"

"I –" Clint snapped his mouth shut, gritting his teeth hard enough that it hurt. It wasn't like he had never experienced the death of a fellow agent, but this was _Tony_. It was different. 

He was so screwed. 

"Forget it," he muttered, deflating from his previous rage like someone had stuck a pin in a balloon. "Are we done here?" 

Steve stared back at him, jaw still set like he was ready to start throwing punches, but he just nodded curtly as he replied: "I s'pose we are." 

Tony noticed how Bruce instinctively tried to curl up on himself at his harsh, but absolutely honest words. This time, he couldn't bring himself to feel guilty, but he did his best to calm down a bit. There was no reason to provoke a serious argument with Bruce, Tony couldn't stand that at the moment. 

Defeated, Bruce let himself sink down into one of the empty lab chairs, burying his head in his hands. Still, the engineer could hear the quiet apology.

"Okay Brucie, let's just go on as before, as nothing had happened."

Brown eyes looked up at him incredulously. "Tony, are you serious? Just going on? Like before? Don't you remember what we've done? We nearly destroyed the Earth." 

Just as the engineer had managed to lock his frustration and anger in the back of his mind, Bruce said something like this. And in a second Tony snapped, maybe it was the debrief, Steve's nice words or the lack of sleep, but it was just too much.

"Fuck, Bruce! We've build an artificial intelligence, we were that close to global peace! Maybe it went wrong, but everyone sometimes misses. Our goal was good, we can make it better! I don't care what the others say, it was right! Don't deny it!"

Sadly the physicist shook his head but remained speechless. Of course _he_ wouldn't give in his displeasure.

Tony liked Bruce, he was one of the most important people of his life, but at that moment he couldn't stand his presence any longer. 

"Okay, okay, you know what? Make yourself a home, I'm out." After that, he stomped out of the lab, leaving a despaired Bruce alone.

Steve stared after Barton as the archer stomped out of the room, shaking his head slowly. Clint wasn't like Natasha, perfectly controlled at all times; he supposed that it had to do with his background before he came to SHIELD, but had never bothered to ask explicitly since in the field, everything had worked smoothly. However, even for Barton, who was less of the absolutely controlled agent than his red-headed friend, an outburst of emotion like this was highly unusual. Steve had never seen him like this before.

With a quiet sigh, he got up from his seat and left the conference room as well – just in time to see Tony coming up from the staircase that led to the underground labs. Smaller than the ones at the Tower, but it was Tony's building, so of course, there were some. 

He was hit by an unexpected pang of bad conscience as he saw the engineer; it really wasn't like he didn't care about his teammates, no way. He had just learned to accept that sometimes, things were inevitable, and he would have expected someone from Barton's profession to know that even better.  
Catching up with the engineer, he called out: "Tony! Do you have a minute?" 

"What?", Tony snapped, still a bit more aggressively than appropriate. A bit helplessly, he rubbed the back of his head.

"Sorry Cap, bad timing. Just talked to Bruce." He stopped, Steve didn't know about their lost teammate showing up again, did he? "Uh yeah, by the way, he's back, just arrived to be precise." 

Steve flinched. _Jesus Christ, everybody's in such a good mood today._ Carefully, he asked: "Doctor Banner is back? That should be positive, right?" It wasn't usual that their resident scientists argued, they used to get on pretty well in their cryptic conversations that nobody but them actually understood. Then again, Ultron had sort of been a precarious subject between them and they never had gotten a chance to talk it out with Bruce gone and everything.

"Yeah, it's good... Fantastic." Tony sighed and looked up to Steves puzzled face. "He still thinks we've fucked up back then. Which we haven't, by the way. It was a enormous breakthrough, it just wasn't flawless." Once more the engineer felt the emotions bubble up in his stomach. "I don't get it? He didn't even plan Ultron, that was all me. It's my fault that these things happened, but _he_ ran away. Maybe that's what I should have done."

Tony caught himself babbling, talking and talking without thinking anymore. Why did Steve have to stand here, why couldn't he not go to bed and be alone for a while? Sort out his thoughts? 

"Hey, Tony, _no_ ," Steve contradicted hastily. "We need you here, remember? To..." He tried to remember the inventor's words, uttered almost a year ago, "make everything look cooler?" Steve was a lot of things, but socially awkward was not one of them. Still, comforting Tony was more difficult than he would have imagined it – especially since Tony seemed to take some things he said way more personally than they were meant.

Not trying wouldn't help anyone either, though, so Steve cracked a smile and slung an arm around Tony's shoulders the way Bucky would have done. "So you argued, that happens. I'm sure that it's going to be okay soon, right?" 

When Steve's warm arm appeared on his shoulders, Tony tensed. He really wasn't sure what was going on, the Captain wasn't usually that touchy and this was already the second time. 

Confused, the engineer searches Steve's eyes and found a welcoming smile. A little distractedly, Tony nodded at the nice words, not only feeling confused but also... good. 

It was really weird, normally it would be the Captain Tony would argue with and Bruce would be the one who comforted him afterwards. He wasn't sure how he could handle it vice versa.

Steve tilted his head a bit to the side, still watching him, maybe inviting? The strong arm had tugged Tony a bit closer to the soldier's broad chest and the smile hadn't vanished.

Gulping, the engineer stared back, shuddering under the sudden warmness that exploded in his stomach. What an odd situation, but Tony couldn't help but like it.

The other man still hadn't moved but gazed at him with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

Uncertain the engineer bit his lip before his body changed into auto pilot. 

[Tony was looking up at him like he had done something completely incomprehensible and Steve wondered if things like this were suddenly unacceptable in the modern world, but it seemed normal enough when others did it. 

Then, suddenly, Tony's lips were on his. 

Tony's lips. On his. Tony was kissing him. 

As soon as his mind had wrapped itself around that fact, he managed to break his frozen posture and reeled backwards, one hand on his mouth. 

"Tony, what the hell!?" he exclaimed, equally startled and scandalised as he stared at the flushed billionaire. "Are you out of your mind?" 

It took nearly two seconds until Steve began to move, but it wasn't how Tony had thought he would move. Well, maybe he had, but he had hoped his concerns would turn out wrong. 

It hurt, it really did. The other man looked like he had just killed his dog or something like that. Tony needed a moment for himself to realise what he had done, as well as Steve had needed a few

seconds. "Oh fuck," he breathed, before shuffling back a few steps himself.

"Yeah... No... Sorry." Without a good reason the engineer suddenly felt breathless. He tried to manage some deep breaths but he got distracted by the look in his teammate's eyes. Tony felt his heart pounding fast and painfully against the arc reactors casing. 

He gulped through the big lump in his throat, cringing a bit at the fact that Steve, _Steve_ looked at him again as he was not only a rude idiot, but something really disgusting. Tony grinned wryly, well, he'd really had better ideas than that, after all.

"Okay, Cap, I'm sorry. I've had a long day, just forget it, okay?" Hastily the engineer mumbled a few words while going backwards. "I'll just get some coffee and then you won't see me again today." With that, Tony turned around and vanished to the communal kitchen.

Clint was just about to pour himself a cup of coffee, his mug clanking loudly as he set it down on the marble counter top with more viciousness than was probably appropriate when someone else entered the kitchen. 

He turned around with a hint of annoyance, half-expecting Steve to come after him when he had just left the conference room less than five minutes ago. 

Instead, he got Tony, looking every inch like he had been slapped or something. The archer raised his eyebrows, surprised to see him again when he had just gotten Bruce back – he hadn't even expected the two to turn up for dinner, much less about, like, fifteen minutes after he had watched them vanish into the labs.

"Tony? Are you okay?" he asked carefully. 

The engineer startled when someone said his name. Distracted he raised his gaze, noticing Clint standing next to the coffee machine, an empty cup on the surface beneath him.

"Hm? What? Yeah." Tony was seriously in no mood for talking, especially not about what just had happened. "You know what? Just a bit frustrated –" he stopped himself short. "Remember my offer yesterday?" Sheepishly Tony stroked his hair back, even if it wasn't necessary. _God, I'm doing it again!_

"Oh just forget it. I..." Clint frowned at him, clearly not understanding what he was doing. Well, then they had something in common. "I've fucked up with Steve. Don't ask, please. But... You know? I need..." It was rare for the engineer to ask for something, so that was one reason why he was so bad at it. He just got everything he wanted. Or not.

"Are you open for a little distraction?" 


	9. Chapter 9

"Are you open for a little distraction?" 

"What did you –" ... _do?_ Clint stopped himself in the before finishing the sentence. If Tony asked for a distraction, then he probably wouldn't want to talk about it. Still, Clint couldn't help but wonder just what Tony had done. "What do you have in mind?" he asked carefully.

Slowly, the engineer straightened himself, making the last steps until he stands right before his teammate. "Maybe the same you had yesterday with that Kyle guy?" Tony saw direct in the archers eyes, searching for a clear 'no' or the expression Steve had showed.

 _No, don't think about him now. That's the point._

After a last deep breath and another gaze to Clint who still remained silent, he grabbed the other man's upper arms and shoved him back against the kitchen wall. Without a second thought, Tony pushed his lips against the warm mouth, hoping this time he wouldn't be pushed away again. 

Clint made a startled sound against Tony's lips, staring at the inventor with wide eyes. Having an idea about what was going to happen didn't make the real thing any less surprising. 

He knew he should stop Tony. They were going to regret it, both of them; Tony for acting without thinking and Clint for allowing himself to get a taste of what it could be like. He should put an end to this before it began. 

He didn't. This might be his once chance at this and even if he might hate himself for it later, right now, he couldn't refuse. He couldn't let this moment go to waste. Tony, like this, pushing him up against the wall and pinning him there, was too much alike to the content of countless dreams that Clint would never admit to having. 

His hands found Tony's waist and he pulled the slightly shorter man closer, leaning down and into the kiss as he began to return it with something akin to desperation.

Something near to a sigh left his lips, Clint should be able to feel it. Tony shook at the relief of not being rejected _again,_ allowed to be tugged closer. 

He could feel the muscles of the archer through their clothes, the minute shifting under his grip. And he could feel another thing, an emotion so strong that it leaped through their shares kiss.  
Tony recognised it from himself, but couldn't name it properly. It only made him invade the foreign mouth harder.

It felt good. 

Clint wasn't sure when he had closed his eyes; he only noticed when he pulled away from Tony, and had to open them again as he suggested, slightly out of breath: "So if that's what we're gonna do, you... might want to move this somewhere else." He tipped his head in the direction of the door, indicating the personal quarters of each Avenger as long as his head was still far enough in the game to think about things like that. 

"Yeah." There was nothing more than Tony could say, he was too breathless, too distracted. Reluctantly he let the archer go only to grab his wrist and tug him into his own room. Without another minute or word Tony pushed Clint backwards onto the bed connecting their mouths instantly.

Possessively, he ran his hands through his teammate's short hair, tugging a bit only to feel the faint moan.

Clint ran his hands up Tony's sides, then slid them under his shirt to feel the inventor's heated skin, forcing himself to stop thinking and just concentrate on the feeling of Tony above him as long as he could. That was a memory to treasure. 

The other man was dominant, demanding, and Clint was fully content with giving him whatever he needed. 

Tony could feel the callouses of Clints hands on his sides, stroking firmly and willingly. Now, it was the engineers turn, but he wasn't satisfied with just feeling the tanned skin.

In a swift movement he ended the kiss to tug Clints shirt over his head. "Better," he commented before pinning his teammate down again. This time he didn't aim for another kiss, but going further down to play with one of the exposed nipples. Tony was rewarded with a husky moan and one of the archer's hands in his hair to pull him closer.

Clint breathed in shakily, aware that Tony must feel his racing pulse under his lips. 

He ran a and through Tony's hair and pulled him back up for another kiss after a few seconds, carefully nipping at the inventor's lip while he rolled his hips against the other man's, deliberately slowly. 

Tony let out a dark chuckle while pressing his hips further down. Once more he pulled his lips back and looked down at Clint for a second. But before he could hesitate or think about this situation he dove down to the archers bare neck.

The engineer pressed a short kiss on the pulse point, noticing the small shudders of the body under him. Then he pulled a bit higher and bit into the tender flesh. 

Clint groaned which caused Tony to smirk. "My, my... You like that, don't you?" 

So he did it again, and again until the archers body was marked with a trail of bit marks from his neck to his chest. 

Pleased, Tony stroked one of the marks, grinned at the squirming of his teammate.

 _It is time._ the engineers hands found the button of Clint's jeans, opened them with skilled and fast fingers.

"Barton, you tell me when to stop?" Patiently Tony waited for an answer, enjoying the sight of the marksman breathing heavily and staring up with hazed eyes. Then, another thought occurred him: "Is this okay if you only did it yesterday?"

Clint blinked up at Tony a few times until his brain caught up with the question. In his defence, most of his blood was _not_ up in his head right now.

He huffed a breathless laugh, propping himself up on his elbows, and responded: "I can take a little pain, Tony." The faint throbbing in each of the bite marks was a distinct reminder of that. "Just take whatever you want." 

"Uh oh, Barton. I think you will regret that," Tony chuckled and pulled the jeans and underwear off of his teammate in one movement. Before he knelt between the archers legs again, the engineer stripped his own clothes of as well.

Without a second delay the lips crushed together, more than passionate than aggressive. Tony felt as if Clint was as frustrated as he was.

Now without clothes between them, the body's seem to melt into each other. He tugged the marksman close, rubbed his groin against the man under him. Tony threw his head back and groaned heatedly. 

Yes, he felt better already. 

Clint ran his hands over every inch of skin that he could reach, felt the muscles shift in the inventor's arms, along his sides and down his back until he could dig his fingers into Tony's behind.  
He blinked his eyes open for a brief moment to memorise the sight of Tony above him, his hair already tousled, lips slightly parted and eyes closed with his dark eyelashes fanned out over his flushed cheeks.

With a quiet, breathy moan, he leaned up and captured Tony's lips in another kiss. 

Once more the engineer pulled himself from the warm lips and smirked at the disappointed groan.

"You're quite a kisser. Haven't expected that," Tony mumbled silently, brushing his thumb over the foreign mouth.

Then he reached down to their groins, gripped both and gave a few lazy strokes. Clint squirmed a little under the sudden touch, but raised his hips to get more friction. 

It didn't take long for them to get fully hard, and Tony pulled back. 

The archer whimpered at the loss of contact, his hips bucking up only partly out of his own volition. He resisted the urge to kiss Tony _again_ ; although he was convinced that he could be doing nothing but that for hours on end, that was not what Tony wanted him for.

He pushed the sting of bitterness that was caused by this thought into the back of his mind, letting the all-too present feeling of lust drown it for now.

With a smirk, he asked: "Is that you subtly admitting that you don't know something? 'cause that's a first." The teasing tone was sort of ruined by his breathless voice, but it was the thought that counted. Unashamedly, he watched every movement of Tony's body as the engineer leaned over to his night stand. Remembering his remark from before, he added slightly belatedly, with a small grin: "And I won't regret it if you make it worth it." 

With one hand, Tony grabbed the bottle of lube and a condom and tossed them onto the sheets. 

"Barton, Barton..." He smirked, as breathless as his partner, and ran a hand through the blond, slightly sweaty hair.

The engineer settled between Clint's legs again and gently stretched then wider. Slowly Tony stroked the archers thighs, smiling fondly at the shudders of anticipation that he could easily feel under his hands. For a moment, he just enjoyed that situation before he leaned to pull the supplies near, 'accidentally' brushing Clint's crotch.

Hastily, Tony rolled on the condom and opened the lube, smiling when the marksman's breath hitched.

Clint breathed in and out slowly, purposefully letting the tension drain from his body. One of Tony's hands was laying on the inside of his thigh, probably intended to keep him in place, a warm, steady presence. 

He exhaled with a barely audible whimper as Tony slid a first finger in, generously coated in lube so Clint almost, _almost_ didn't feel the soreness from the night before. He clenched his fists around the bed sheet and focussed on breathing as the inventor worked him open, adding a second finger after not too long.

Clint was distracted from the sting of pain when Tony crooked his fingers and brushed against the archer's prostate. In response, Clint moaned hoarsely and arched his back up from the mattress as he briefly saw stars. 

Tony drew his fingers back, waited for the archer to whine at the loss before pushing them back in, together with a third one.

The engineer stretched Clint from the inside, only every now and then lightly touching the man's sweet spot. When Tony decided that it was enough, he pulled out again and lubed himself up thoroughly. 

Endeavoured not to give in to his slight impatience, he lined himself up and pressed inside in one movement. Tony gave them both a moment to acclimate with the position before he started moving. 

Again, Clint was running his hands over Tony's body, having no idea where else to put them while the initial pain of the stretch morphed into the pleasure of feeling filled, _complete_ once again. Grabbing a hold of the inventor's hair, he pulled the other man towards him for a kiss, much less coordinated than the last ones.

Clint hooked his legs around Tony's waist, heels digging into the engineer's backside, urging him on in his movements. He broke the kiss with a shuddering gasp, throwing his head back when the Tony brushed over his prostate again. 

He used that occasion to move his lips against Clints neck again. While he set a teasingly slow pace, Tony started nibbling at the skin. This time he wouldn't leave a bite mark, but something different. 

The archer tried to get him to speed things up, using his legs to pull him deeper, but at the moment Tony was in control. Inwardly smirking, the engineer stared sucking at the skin between his teeth, feeling Clint trying to move away. The moment he succeeded, it was already too late. 

With a chuckle, he inspected the hickey he just left. "I'm getting the feeling you're getting impatient," Tony mumbled into Clints ear, earning a soft whimper in response. "Don't worry Barton, I think you're right." The archer didn't have time to answer, because Tony started thrusting into him in earnest now.

Any words that Clint could have wanted to utter abandoned him together with the breath in his lungs. Fortunately, that also included 'Natasha is going to fucking murder me', which he was inevitably going to deal with at some point later on.

For now, though, every coherent thought was thoroughly wiped out by Tony. Despite the billionaire's reputation as womaniser, he was obviously not inexperienced with men either, judging by the way that he didn't miss Clint's prostate on a single thrust. The archer was almost continuously keening by now, his back arching and fingers digging into the sheets helplessly as he futilely tried to make sense of the onslaught of sensations that his nerves were _somehow_ expecting him to understand.

At some point Tony had closed his eyes to be able to concentrate on the sensations he experienced at the moment. It was really enough without being distracted by the sight of a flushed archer who stared at him out of blown pupils. 

The tight warmth enveloped him so perfectly it was absurd, moreover it was the reason why Tony had problems to hold himself back. He knew if he let go, he would take Clint harsh and fast, too fast for him to follow maybe.

With a brief moan the engineer let himself fall forward, touching his teammates chest while he supported himself with one hand next to Clint's head. Tony's other hand left his place on the archers thigh and it found again its place at the other man's crotch. When the engineer began to stroke Clint lazily, the body under him started squirming once more because of the overstimulation.

Tony's lips quirked, Clint was close, too. 

The archer bucked his hips up and grabbed a hold of Tony's arm next to him, not with any particular thought in mind, just to have something to hold on to while his brain decided to short-circuit and simply flood him with endorphins. 

He was pretty sure that he was cursing – that was, if he even got anything halfway resembling a distinct word past his lips. He was pretty sure that Tony's name was in there somewhere, too, and something in the back of his mind protested against that, but he wasn't in a state to care right now.  
Embarrassingly fast, he felt himself clenching down around Tony as he started to tremble, tensing up with the sensation of the heat in his belly spreading through every fibre of his body. He was sure that he stuttered something out that resembled a warning, but he couldn't be sure about it when he shuddered, coming with a breathy, drawn-out moan.

Tony himself bit back his own groaning, tried to hear what Clint was saying. Not because of the words or even their meaning, but because he liked listening to the slurred sounds. Maybe another reason was that every time the archer moaned Tony's name his stomach clenched and let out another wave of lust.

Slowly but steadily the other man's words went beyond comprehensible, a heated mix of endorphin-induced moans and carefree babbling. The engineer knew that very well, normally he wouldn't shut up during sex either, but today, he wasn't in the mood for speaking.

Tony's vision blacked out for a moment, when Clint contracted around him, shoving him merciless over the edge without having the option to hold back. 

Another second after they came, both remained frozen, until the rest of the tension was washed out of their bodies. 

Panting, the engineer slumped down and rolled himself off of Clint, pulling out carefully. His eyes still closed, he tossed the used condom into the trash bin next to his night stand before settling in a comfortable position.

Clint didn't bother to move except for forcing himself to make the effort of closing his legs so they wouldn't be obscenely spread over, like, _the whole bed_. He could hear Tony beside him, gasping for breath just like the archer did, and for a while, they just lay there like that until Clint found the energy to roll over on his side and curl up with his knees slightly drawn up. He was on the very verge of falling asleep, but absolutely not sure if that was acceptable right now – sleeping with Tony was one thing, however, actually sleeping in Tony's bed was something different entirely.

 _Oh God, I slept with Tony._

With some effort, he managed to open his eyes and almost flinched at how close he had gotten to the inventor by rolling over. Tony was mirroring the archer's position, half-curled up on his side and his eyes closed.

Briefly, Clint wondered whether he was going to overstep any boundaries, but then again, they should be pretty much past those already, so _what the hell can go wrong anyway_. He leaned forward, closing the last few inches between them to met Tony's lips in a short, tentative kiss, barely a second before he was already pulling back again.

"Huh?" Slightly disoriented, the engineer opened his eyes half at the short touch on his lips. "You really are keen on kissing, aren't you, Clint?"

Tony closed his eyes again, relaxing into the heated covers, when he felt uncomfortable shifting beside him. Sighing he reached out blindly, grabbing the other man's shoulder and pressing him down on the bed. "Would you _please_ stop that?" He pulled his hand back again, folding it over the arc reactor like he was used to.

"You have two options right now. Either you can stay and take a nap with me, because I really should get some sleep now, or, if you're uncomfortable with that you can just go. Okay Clint?"  
After making his point clear he used the aftermath of his release to let himself be tugged into a peaceful slumber.

Clint hesitated, maybe for a moment too long; by the time he had an answer, Tony had apparently already drifted off. Quietly and in the least disturbing way possible, the archer tugged the covers up and around Tony. Then, he reached for his shirt that had ended up somewhere near the headboard and wiped himself halfway clean with it before tossing it blindly to the side. He curled up next to Tony and stared at the sleeping man for a while.

 _You really are keen on kissing, aren't you, Clint?_ The archer tried to think of other moments that Tony had called him by his actual first name instead of 'Barton', 'Birdie' or 'insert movie archer of choice here'. Not even while they had been at it had Tony changed that; just now, afterwards, flooded with endorphins.

And, well, no. Clint wasn't usually that kissy and affectionate, hell no. But this was Tony and he felt like he could impossibly waste any chance that he got. If that made the inventor think he was some sort of cuddly monster, well, so be it. It wouldn't matter later on, anyway.

Slowly, Clint closed his eyes and allowed himself to be pulled down into a dozing, shallow sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

When Tony opened his eyes the next time, the archer had left, his bedside was already cold. _So apparently, he was uncomfortable with staying._ The engineer shrugged and stretched a bit before fetching his phone from the bedside table. It was already dinner time, he had slept longer than planned.

Still a bit sleepily, Tony got up and collected his clothes from the floor before making himself presentable. He had thought about skipping eating, but the engineer hadn't had food since the morning before, so he decided against it.

Half an hour later, he strolled into the communal kitchen once more, where most of the team already was sitting. "Whoops, I am late, aren't I?" Unceremoniously Tony plopped down onto one of the free chairs and took a look at his teammates.

Besides Bruce, who had promised to come for dinner, there were Falcon, Cap, Romanoff and Barton, silently consuming Chinese take out. Maximoff and Vision seemed to be out for business or whatever those two were doing in their spare time, Tony didn't care.

Shyly, Bruce passed over a bag of fried rice and the engineer recognised an apology when offered. So he smiled at his friend and started placating his growling stomach. Meanwhile, he studied Steve's features who stoically avoided his gaze and talked to Sam instead and whatever Romanoff and Barton were doing, Tony wasn't that curious to try eavesdropping.

Clint had his head propped up on one hand, positioned so the hickey that Tony had placed practically right under his jaw, too high to be hidden under any sort of shirt collar, wasn't immediately visible. He didn't have any scarves here, so this would have to suffice. 

Natasha had noticed, of course, when he had entered the kitchen after a shower and freshly dressed, and had greeted him with a sugary sweet smile and 'don't you want to sit down, Clint?'. Now, he was desperately trying to not squirm in his seat so he wouldn't give her any more fuel for the talk he could swear was following.

He briefly glanced up at Tony when the engineer entered, but didn't stare for more than a few seconds. There was nothing out of the ordinary and he wasn't going to make it feel that way. 

The dinner passed without major events, Tony was very surprised. 

By now, he was used to living with soldiers and spies, used to being read like a book every now and then. But today no one seemed to have questions or sarcastic remarks, whether to Bruce's presence or the fact that Tony had slept in the middle of the day without being drunk.

It took until the group stand up to make the dishes before someone said something about Clint's hickey. 

The engineer did his best to hide his grin when Sam asked curiously about his teammates love live: "Huh, didn't know you have a girlfriend, Hawkeye." Clint stiffened for a split second, but caught himself fast enough to shrug it up.

He stopped himself from responding 'she's a he and not my boyfriend' as he let his hand drop. The position had started to get uncomfortable anyway.

"Funny how you're immediately assuming it's a girlfriend," he said after a moment of hesitation. He was pretty sure that they didn't have any raging homophobes on the team and even if they did, he wasn't going to start spinning lies just for the sake of not offending anyone.

Sam looked taken a back for a moment, but then blinked and went back to his dishes. "Oh okay, than a boyfriend."

When Tony turned around to the table again, he felt Bruce's piercing gaze at him. Questioningly, he raised an eyebrow, but the other man remained silent. At least for now.

"You're all so cute," Clint muttered and, at Steve's disturbed look, added with a raised eyebrow: "No homo. You're not my type, Cap. But seriously, Sam, there's things like one night stands, those don't only work for hets. I'm not in a committed relationship or anything." _Unfortunately._

He was really, really glad that Wanda wasn't here. Someone reading his mind right now would be a disaster; Natasha's piercing gaze from the side was more than unsettling enough. 

For that moment Tony ignored the conversation behind him to clear the field with Bruce. "I'm sorry 'bout yesterday. But are we okay?"

The physicists face softened an he nodded with a small smile. "Want to join me in the workshop later? We didn't talk that much yesterday." It was more a rhetorical questions, the men knew each other good enough by now to know what the other one would appreciate. Especially at scientific matters. 

When Bruce and Tony left the kitchen, Sam was still talking about relationships and their problems with work and Steve tried to figure something out. 

_Huh. Maybe he wasn't that disgusted by me, but from old school homophobia? If that's the case..._ Once more, the engineer tried his best to hide the smile that crept up his face.

Each man was sticking to his own thoughts until the peaceful quietness of the workshop embraced them.

Tony was halfway to his equipment to start it and show it to Bruce when the physicist raised his voice. "So, let's talk about Clint."

Tony's head flew up. "What?" He met the calm but adamant state of his lab partner. Again. This time he wanted to talk about this. "Can we not just talk about-"

"No," Bruce deadpanned.

Tony activated his systems and slumped into his chair. "Oh come on, that was just a one night stand, exactly like he said. We were frustrated so why not? We're both responsible adults." The engineer paused, thinking back to the prank war a while ago. "Most of the time." His friend huffed silently but didn't interrupt, instead he grabbed a chair himself. "I'm not interested in Clint."

"But in someone else?" Sometimes, Tony hated the fact that Bruce was a genius as well and had spent a lot time with him. The physicist was holding back most of the time when he was with other people, but that didn't mean he was oblivious to emotional relationships of every kind. Some people had been caught off guard by his perceptiveness.

" _Bruce_...", Tony whined, a bit annoyed. "Can't we just skip that topic and move on to restore JARVIS?"

Incredulously Bruce shook his head. "Okay, okay. I'll drop this for now, but if you need help or someone to talk..." The engineer didn't doubt that his friend had an idea that wouldn't be entirely wrong.

"You know I'm not so into talking and the other thing... If such a situation will occur again, I think Barton has no problem with helping me, so don't you worry about that." 

Bruce didn't comment that and the engineer happily turned back to his equipment. "So, let's get started now?" 

"At the moment when you stop grinning like a fool. If you want to keep those things secret, you really should do better."

After that, they were both silent for a while, both working seperately, until Tony suddenly asked: "How sneaky are you, Bruce?"

The other man raised his head from where he had been hunching over some of Tony's notes. "I've escaped the military for a few years after trespassing the heavy guarded border."

Smirking, the engineer showed Bruce a bunch of small, electronic devices. "Point taken. But more importantly, I have a mission for you."

Sighing, his friend took a closer look on the stuff Tony swayed in front of his face. "I don't have a good feeling about this."

He got a devilish grin and the brown eyes lit up in anticipation. "And I haven't told anything yet."

Half an hour later, Tony sat in front of his main computer, a blueprint of the Avengers Base in his hands. "Bruce, how's it going?"

At the same moment the physicist tiptoed through a corridor on another floor, equipped with a little in ear communicator. "No one's around, level clear," he answered quietly. 

Tony nodded, satisfied, tracking his friend's position on the blueprints. "It's really easy, you just have to activate the _Stark Observers_ and pin them at a hidden position. They will merge with the surface on their own."

He heard the little clicking sound through the communicator, when Bruce placed the first bug in a small vent beside a decorative plant. 

"One down, 106 to go." Tony called cheerfully, ignoring the muffled protests of the physicist. 

"I still don't think that it is a good idea to bug the headquarters." 

"Oh Brucie... So much to learn." 

Tony activated the already positioned Stark Observers while Bruce was taking the elevator onto the next floor.

"Um, Tony, what's with those rooms which are not empty at the moment? And the other's quarters?" Up till now they were lucky enough to avoid any other Agents that were working in the building. That was mostly thanks to the fact that Hill was holding some kind of conference in one of the bigger rooms on the second level. So Bruce had nearly no problems to sneak into the different levels to install the surveillance equipment.

Another thing that came in handy was that Fury used the same security cameras as he had on the helicarrier, which Tony could manipulate since his first visit there. He wouldn't complain about SHIELD making his job easy.

But now the physicist got more problems. "Wait, why are you installing surveillance in the private rooms anyway? Are you planning to spy on our teammates?" 

Bruce's voice sounded indignant even through the comm. The engineer rubbed his neck, grinning, ignoring the fact that his friend couldn't see him. "Yeah, no. Just for emergencies?"

The huff on the other end of the line proved that Bruce wasn't okay with that idea. "No Tony, I won't do that. The communal areas I can understand, but not the private rooms. Especially not without permission!"

Tony knew, when Bruce used this determined voice he didn't need to bother arguing. "Okay Brucie, I got it. The rest should be in their rooms anyways, so no devices there." After a second he added. "When you're finished, come back down to me to run a test?"

The engineer smiled a bit, it was very good that Bruce was back, he had missed his genius but sometimes annoying morality at his side. 

When Bruce entered the workshop again, Tony was greeted by his still disapproving glance. 

"Hey, hey, calm down big guy, I've got it. That was a bad idea." The engineer raised his hands in mock surrender, which made his friend sigh. 

"You know, I didn't want the bugs to spy on the rest – not as main purpose, at least." Bruce shot him another look when he took a seat next to Tony.

"I'm just used to have JARVIS around me all the time. You weren't in my old house in Malibu, but I did it there that way. In the Tower it wasn't that strict, JARVIS had speakers in every room, but cameras just in the communal spaces and workshops." Tony sighed a bit. "I need him. I know you of all people understand this. When I have him around me all times I feel protected, it was horrible when he was offline. That's why I want him in here in almost every room, not to harm or annoy anyone."

The engineer leaned back in his chair, faking self-confidence he didn't have at the moment. In a swift movement Tony opened the Stark Observers' interface and zoomed in so that Bruce could take a better look. But the physicist wasn't paying attention to the computer but at Tony himself. 

"That's why you built JARVIS in the first place. Not because you wanted to see if it works, not because it would be handy to have an self-learning AI, but as a friend, a protector." 

With a short side glance to Bruce, Tony knew that this wasn't a question so he didn't bother to answer. Instead he started connecting the activated bugs to JARVIS new interface. 

"So buddy, time to test out your new eyes and ears," the engineer mumbled. 

Bruce was smart enough to drop that topic, Tony needed a break from personal talk. So they spend the night and half of the following morning talking and working like they had before Ultron.

 _Meanwhile, the evening from another perspective..._

Apart from Steve's occasional disapproving (or just really, really confused) glances in Clint's direction, nobody did actually react badly to his sort of accidental outing. _Well, that could have gone much worse._

He took that thought back when Natasha smiled at him and asked: "Clint, how do you feel about going a round or two before you go back to bed?"

 _Oh, fuck_. "Sure," he replied with a tight smile. Sore as he was, this was going to be _so_ much fun.  
He followed the spy towards the gym, where they both changed into more comfortable workout clothes without speaking a word.

Natasha had him on the mat in less than a minute. She seemed _furious_ as she twisted his arm on his back, more painfully than was necessary. 

"Really now?" she hissed. "This is your way of dealing with feelings? Hiding and not fucking answering your phone? I was worried, you asshole, and then you march into the kitchen after sleeping with Tony!"

"How would you know if it was Tony?" Clint asked defensively, his cheek pressed against the mat. 

"How stupid do you think I am?" she snapped back. "You've got a fresh hickey –" 

"That could have been anyone!" 

"–except that you wouldn't let just _anyone_ do that, you're not helpless, don't try that on me," she responded heatedly. "Besides, his smug grin just now was a wonderful indicator. And neither of you are known to randomly shower in the middle of the afternoon. Is this your definition of a good idea?"

The archer gritted his teeth and tensed before flipping them both over. He trapped her arm between his thighs and strengthened the hold until she wouldn't be able to move without pulling the arm out of its socket. He knew she'd do it if it was necessary, but not for a spar. 

"And you're just the master of good ideas, aren't you," he shot back venomously. "'Why don't you talk to him, Clint', 'just act on it, Clint', 'why wouldn't it work out, give it a try, Clint' - you knew about Steve, didn't you? You always know things like that."

"What does it matter?" she demanded, glaring up at him from her position as she contemplated her next move. 

"What does it matter?" Clint echoed. "How the fuck am I supposed to compete with _Captain America_ , Natasha? It fucking matters, alright?"

"Oh, and of course, serving as his fucktoy when he's frustrated is the right way to do this, sorry I doubted you," came the prompt reply.

The archer winced and released his hold, sitting up on the mat while Natasha rolled her shoulder and followed suit. Glaring at her, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and asked: "So, since your opinion is already fortified and everything, why are we having this talk?" 

"Because I care about you, you moron," the spy responded, her glare matching his. "And I don't just mean you getting shot, but the whole rest of the package." 

Clint opened his mouth to reply something and closed it again after a few seconds. With a sigh, he muttered: "Now how am I supposed to come up with a decent retort to that?" 

"You're not," she replied, getting to her feet. "Now come here. We're going to eat ice cream and watch movies." 

"Are you asking me to mope with you?" 

"Not asking, demanding. We can pretend that I'm the one who's moping if it makes you feel better." 

"Deal." 

Just for the sake of it, they finished their sparring session before doing anything else. 

True to her word, Natasha did get ice cream. They sprawled out on her bed (Clint on his front, glaring at Natasha to dare her to say something) and told JARVIS - then corrected himself because JARVIS wasn't actually back online yet and they had to talk to FRIDAY - to pull some action flick up that didn't require much attention while watching. 

About twenty minutes into the movie, Clint slid up the bed and curled up against Natasha's side. Neither of them said anything and she even pretended not to mind when he began to sneak spoonfuls of her vanilla ice cream. It was no new situation; they had often ended up like this after a particularly rough mission, and Natasha knew him well enough by now to understand when forcing him to answer her questions would be pushing too far. With the afternoon he'd had, he really didn't feel like talking for now. His friend just shifted a little on the covers until their position was comfortable, then returned to ignoring how he stole her ice cream (although she did get some of his chocolate-flavoured one in retaliation).

Clint wasn't sure how long they had been watching when he heard the door clicking open softly. His eyes flickered towards the entrance briefly and then he closed them as soon as he saw who was at the door. He breathed in and out deeply, feigning sleep and hoping that Natasha caught on quickly. 

Why did he ever doubt her anyway? He heard her making a quiet "shht"-sound before she whispered: "Hey, Steve, come on in." It was sort of pointless to keep her voice down with the movie blaring loudly, but then he heard her tuning down the volume until it became more of a background noise.

Then, while the soldier closed the door again carefully, she took the spoon from Clint's hand and intertwined their fingers. It might look sweet for anyone else, but he knew it was her way of establishing a way of communication. _Is this okay?_

He hesitated, but then squeezed once, careful to keep it as inconspicuously as possible. _Yes_. 

"Do you want to join us?" Natasha quietly asked Steve.

The soldier hesitated for a moment, then he replied lowly: "Sure. If that's okay with you two - or, well, just you, I suppose." 

"Of course, come here," she invited. "I'm sure that you still have some movies to catch up on, right? Say the word and I'm sure FRIDAY will be glad to be of service." The mattress dipped when Steve climbed up onto the bed, muttering his thanks. Now, Clint was laying between the two of them and enjoyed the feeling of Natasha's pulse against his ear. He felt the slight vibrations as she spoke up again: "So what are we watching? Have you seen Star Trek yet?" 

"Some of it," the soldier replied. "They had a bald Captain with a French name." 

Natasha laughed quietly. "We are so watching Star Trek."

Some minutes into the film, probably not even half an hour, Clint was barely awake anymore when Natasha suddenly stopped the movie and half-turned towards Steve, gentle enough not to dislodge Clint where he was draped over her, but still resolutely. 

"Okay, something is bothering you," she stated. "What's up, Steve?" 

There was some awkward shuffling next to Clint before Steve hesitantly answered: "Well, I've- there's- well." He sighed and the archer could imagine his team leader's uncomfortable squirming under Natasha's gaze. "I got kissed," he eventually blurted out. 

"That's not a bad thing, is it?" she asked, and by the tone in her voice, Clint was pretty sure that she already knew, somehow. In that Natasha way of knowing things before other people did. 

Steve was still stammering uncertainly. "Of course not, but I- it's about-" He sighed. "I know that it's normal nowadays, but I really- I'm just not... queer. It's not my thing. And then he just sort of - I didn't expect it, and I was surprised and I might have snapped at him." Another sigh. "I just don't _like_ guys, and I know that people make mistakes and that's normal and I try not to be awkward around him, but I don't think I'm doing a very good job at it."

Clint only refrained from cringing because that would give away his act. He felt sorry for Tony, of course, because from the way that sounded like it couldn't have been too pleasant, but he also saw Steve's side and the embarrassed, almost apologetic stuttering made it hard to judge the Captain for pushing Tony away the way he had.

"That's completely normal," Natasha soothed. "Things might be awkward for a bit, but I'm pretty sure Tony will get over it and you will, too." 

Steve shifted on the mattress next to Clint. "Yeah, you're probably - wait, how did you know that it's Tony?" 

Natasha gave a slight shrug and the archer could picture her not-quite-smile as she replied: "It's my job to see things, Steve. I know he likes you, has for a while. This was to be expected, sooner or later, but I'm pretty sure that he'll manage." She ran her free hand through Clint's hair until it found his ear. As a way of explanation, carefully squeezing his hand with her second one, she said: "Give me a moment, I'll just take his hearing aids out. He's always cranky in the mornings when he sleeps with them in." 

The archer hesitated, but then squeezed back. Whatever kind of talk these two were going to have now, it was none of his business. 

"Funny," Steve said while Natasha took the first little plug out, "I always used to assume that you two-" His words were cut off when the spy removed Clint's second hearing aid and the world went silent around him.

It took a while until he actually managed to fall asleep. He was mistrustful by nature, wouldn't have survived this long if he wasn't. Like this, neither seeing nor hearing, he was vulnerable.  
However, the feeling of Natasha's voice vibrating in her chest while she spoke and her hand carding through his short hair managed to soothe him after a while; and, after all, he knew that she would murder Steve in some horribly painful way if he tried to harm her "idiot archer". It might be weird, but that thought actually helped in getting him to fall asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

It was more than another week of watching Tony pining after Steve, trying not to pine over Tony and considering calling Kyle until something finally happened; Natasha unannouncedly walked into his room, plucked Clint's glasses ( _Stark Glasses_ ) off his nose and ushered him into the conference room without deigning to tell him what was going on. Tony, with Bruce in tow, was just coming from the other end of the hallway and the archer waved at the two before Natasha shut the door behind them. 

The rest of the team, except for Wanda and Vision who were still off to god-knew-where and Thor, who was in New Mexico with Jane, was already seated around the table and Natasha didn't waste any time. Before Clint was even sitting, she declared: "There's two things. First of all, Tony, we might have a lead on those guys. Secondly, and I strongly suspect that also goes to Tony, _who_ is planting bugs all over HQ?" 

The engineer forced himself to show an innocent smile, pretending not to know anything about the mentioned bugs. 

"I have no idea, Red. But did you really think I would spy on the team? That's your job, after all. Do you even know the word _private_?" 

Tony noticed Bruce next to himself mumbling under his breath. His friend' hurtfully obvious display of guilt caused just a small sigh. He was really a way too nice guy to play false.

Tony was aware that he couldn't hide the surveillance or JARVIS from the team that long, especially Natasha, but it had been worth a try. 

Natasha raised her eyebrows with a sarcastic little smile. "You're right, Tony," she responded drily. "Can't have been you. Probably Steve did it." Clint snorted.

Tony crossed his arms above his chest staring at Natasha. "Oh come on. Even if I'd done this, where's your problem? In the Tower, you had no problem with the bugs."  
Next to him, Bruce shook his head and gripped the engineer's sleeve. Sighing, Tony let himself be pulled down on the chair with the others, showing every sign of self-confidence he could think of. "The observers stay where they are."

Natasha huffed with a smile. 

"No, I don't actually mind. I just wanted to make sure that they were yours and we don't have a spy in the cleaning staff or anything. Now that we got that settled..." She moved towards the screen on the table. "Let's move on." 

Clint learned forwards slightly, his forearms on the table and his eyes fixed on the screen. Now, it got interesting. 

Confused, Tony slumped in the conference chair. Well, _that_ was surprising. 

But he wouldn't complain, he really had no intention to remove JARVIS' eyes and ears, not after he finally got him back, he could have his old trust in security back. 

Relieved that he wouldn't have to argue with the team or trick them into the surveillance, he could concentrate on the more important matters. Those idiots that kidnapped him. 

Oh, he so couldn't wait to kick their asses back where they belonged. No one had the right to mess with Tony stark. When would those people learn that? 

Especially now when he had an actual badass team behind him, ready to fight for him, too? 

Natasha, who had apparently taken the position of the one leading the debrief, crossed her arms. "Point two, then. I've got something, but not much. Apparently, these guys are – or were, but I wouldn't be too sure about that – a splinter group of AIM. They are no official part of it, I found ties to one of the ex-leaders of the organisation though, so we have a place to start." 

"Where'd you find the guy?" Clint asked, earning a sideways glance from the spy on the front. He leaned back, crossing his arms in front of his chest as she began to launch into an explanation. 

While Natasha started talking Tony felt himself slightly drifting off. 

To be honest, he hadn't suspected his kidnappers to have any kind of relation to AIM, since the Mandarin he hadn't even heard about the organisation again. But well, the bad guys didn't sleep, only because it went silent around them it didn't have to mean anything.

Absently, Tony scratched his beard, once more wondering about what they wanted to do with the arc-reactors power. They weren't even that intelligent when it came to obtaining the power. The engineer had wondered even back in that basement why they hadn't forced him to rebuilt the reactor.

After a while Natasha went silent again, Clint was obviously satisfied with the answer. So Tony took the opportunity to voice his questions loudly to his team. 

Clint leaned back in his seat, arms crossed in front of his chest. 

"I think it was partly bad planning," he spoke up. "They didn't want to take it out because they still needed you, which is why they wouldn't let me shoot you. Sorry about that one, by the way. So I suppose that they wanted to draw some energy from the reactor before they did whatever else they wanted. Practical because it immobilised you, but since they were apparently lacking the technological details, they underestimated the damage it would do." It was surprisingly hard to keep his voice calm and steady, but he just about managed. The only tell of how pissed off he was about the whole thing were his own fingers digging into his arms. "I'm pretty sure they needed to stall until they were ready to either transport you further or set up whatever they planned." 

With a soundless sigh, the engineer stroked his hair back, cursing over those countless bad guys who were unable to plan their things. Where were those good old villains who would explain their detailed course of action before getting stopped by the heroes?

"Yeah, seems plausible," Tony nodded without meeting his teammates eyes. "No problem with the shooting, was nice thinking." A small smile crept up his face, knowing that he didn't have to thank Clint again because his gift was more than enough. He didn't even need Jarvis to tell that the archer kept the glasses with him and even used them more than his old ones, apparently. 

"So we should find out what device-of-doom they wanted to charge and destroy it in time." 

"Sounds like a plan to me," Clint agreed. 

With a dry, amused tone, Natasha remarked: "You two may want to work on that plan a little. And if you don't, I'll still force you to, because I'm convinced that you two would actually try to win a fight with that." 

The archer huffed and rolled his eyes. "You make that sound like I always storm off with no idea what the hell I'm doing." 

"Tokyo," she responded without missing a beat. 

"It was _one time_ , Nat!" he whined, throwing his arms up. "Am I _ever_ going to hear the end of that?" 

"Unlikely," came the dry reply. "Do you want to get back to the point now?" 

Grinning Tony followed the agents' little bickery. It was always fun to watch and, more importantly, eased the strained mood in the room. 

The engineer found himself relaxing in his chair and shoot Bruce next to him a grin. While Clint and Natasha continued teasing each other, Tony fiddled put his Stark phone. Normally he would get chided from either Steve or Bruce, but they were too distracted or didn't care because at the moment, nothing important was happening.  
Well, that would hopefully change soon. Because Tony Stark had a plan.

Clint made a little "mph"-sound and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Sullenly, he stated: "I'll have you know that I'm fully capable of planning things. I just don't usually _need_ to, because I'm just that awesome." 

"I'll tell you that the next time when I have to save your ass," Natasha said sweetly. "Now, I'm aware that you are unable to sit through a debrief without at least one inappropriate comment, but I think we've got our fill for today. Don't we?"

"Yes, ma'am," he responded with an eye-roll and muttered something about her never letting Tokyo go under his breath while he settled back in his chair. "Since your plans are so much better than mine, care to present one?" 

For a second Tony raised his head wondering if Clint had addressed him, but when he found the archer shooting invisible arrows out of his eyes at Natasha, he got back to his phone.

With fast fingers, he tipped a message to JARVIS, remembering that he still hadn't informed the team official about his comeback. Well, maybe Natasha had already found out about it, he didn't care that much about this knowledge.

Next to him Bruce raised an eyebrow at him so Tony finished his message and passed the device to his friend. 

As long as the physicist went over his plan he could turn his attention back at the rest of the team. 

"First rule," Natasha stated, one finger pointed at Clint, "if you run off for some previously not discussed revenge campaign, I am going to personally rip your head off. That clear?" 

"Again, you make it sound like I do that all the time, which I don't," the archer responded. Alright, there had been that time where he might or might not have taken down a Mafia-related base on his own, but it had been about Phil at the time. They had laid their hands on one of _his_ and that just didn't...

Ah. Now that he was thinking about it, he did begin to see some parallels between that situation and the one now. And okay, he _had_ entertained the thought. Just a little. Which didn't have to mean anything. 

Natasha seemed to see the moment in which he decided not to debate further and instead leaned back in his chair to let her do the talking. 

"Secondly, before we do anything, I want to know more. There's no need to unnecessarily endanger anyone if we go in there unprepared," she continued. "So if anyone gets any intel on that, tell it to the team and don't run off on your own. That's what a team is for."

Clint only just managed to suppress his scoff at the notion. He'd seen how well that worked. 

Tony's eyes flickered to the archer, who didn't seem very happy at Natasha's rules. Well, he shared his colleagues opinion in that matter, this may work if no one was already separated from the team. 

Bruce passed his phone back and raised an eyebrow. The engineer could see the wordless suggestion to show his plan to the rest of the team as well as the faint lines of sorrow on the tired face. 

After his friend had come back to the lab to test out the Stark Observers, Tony took the opportunity to fill him in the recent developments, including his little kidnapping episode but with more focus on the rebuilt of the arc reactor. Bruce had known better than to press that issue, the man knew Tony now for a good amount of time and could read between the lines way too good. And at this moment he looked concerned again, for Tony.

Sighing, the engineer raised an arm, mock-pretending to be a schoolboy. He would tell the team, even if only for his friend's sake.

"Hey team, I've got Intel!" he informed them, same parts smug as well as annoyed. "Used JARVIS to relocate the stolen energy. It's pretty uncommon and never-seen-before after all. So we could fly out and make a little party for their new baby."

"And nobody parties like Tony Stark," Clint remarked with a wry grin. He had been watching their resident 'science bros' for a while out of the corner of his eye and it had been apparent that _something_ was up, but the archer was lost when he tried to understand the non-verbal communication between them. A glance seemed enough to convey whole sentences sometimes; he knew it from himself and Nat, but it was still frustrating to not understand them.

So he was a curious bastard, sue him. 

The remark was lost in Steve's quizzical "JARVIS? Do you mean FRIDAY?", which prompted a quiet snicker from Clint. This was going to be interesting - just a pity that Vision wasn't here. 

Tony shoot the archer a short glance, smiling over the amusement. 

"Yeah, no. FRIDAY is back to sleep, it was about time to let JARVIS back on the field, wasn't it?"  
With a short flicker of his hand, he opened one of the programs of his phone. After he had tossed it on the tabletop, a small hologram hovered over it. 

"Hello Captain Rogers, Mr. Wilson, Miss Romanoff. I am very sorry that I didn't make my presence known earlier, but I figured it wasn't the right time." 

Bruce beside him examined the miniature hologram of the AI, maybe comparing its current form with the one he had encountered while the Ultron debacle. The engineer wondered if he had found the small differences. 

Natasha's eyebrows shot up in understanding and she allowed herself a small smile. Clint suppressed one of his own, but apparently not successfully since she levelled him with one of her looks that told him they were going to have words about him knowing things and not telling her.  
Well, that was what she got for the Steve thing. 

Curiously, he examined the glowing hologram. It didn't actually make much sense to him, but it definitely looked better than the fractured mess that he had seen after Ultron had had his way with the other AI. 

"Now, the surveillance makes sense," Natasha mused. "Welcome back, JARVIS." Then, turned towards Tony, she asked: "How much does he remember?" 

Helplessly Tony shrugged. "That's not easy to say, Red. This one was a backup from before Afghanistan, but well, he's a self-learning AI and the best one that exists." He took the time to show the pride he felt for JARVIS. "He's already started to fill in the gaps and will continue that way. I think you have to find out for yourselves."

The hologram vanished in thin air and Tony closed the application. Instead, he showed them a map with a little pinpoint where he had located the reactor's power signature. 

"So back to our topic, what wil we do now? I am suited up in seven minutes if we're heading out now." 

Natasha sighed and muttered: "It's like talking to a brick wall." She tapped the holographic map that still hovered over the table and reminded: "Plan, remember? We can't just storm in there. We need some information first." 

"We could send Tony ahead as a scout," Clint proposed. With a sideways glance to the inventor, he added: "Just to get a look at the area. Without engaging. And Nat, you're the best at blending in, you could have a look at what's inside." 

"We're making a tactician out of you yet," the spy commented with a smile. "Tony, do you have any suits that are suitable for scouting? Something... _not_ flashy?"

Tony leaned back in his chair, he hesitated for a second before he nodded. 

"I _have_ a suit for that kind of task. I've equipped one with the stealth panels used on the helicarrier. But –" For a second, the engineer frowned and stroked his chin. "Its kinda heavy, never bothered to go further into that issue– I am Iron Man, I don't do spying, I leave that for little Red over here. So it isn't for battle, just scouting, you get my problem?"

Tony wasn't sure if he was comfortable to go near the base without heavy ammunition in his suit. "If it stays with playing creepy stalker, everything should be alright."

Natasha nodded affirmatively. "Don't worry, that's not a problem. We just need someone to scout the area from above and Wilson is too easily seen. I'll go in, leave that to me, but it would be nice to have an idea what we're dealing with before I run off. I like having a plan, unlike some people." 

"Never letting it go," Clint muttered with a sigh, fighting a grin. "So when do we start?" 

Without letting Steve even open his mouth, Tony answered at his place. "I would suggest as fast as possible, I could get ready in a matter of minutes – Cap, don't even try, I know what you're going to say. But imagine what they could do with that power while we're planning? It's only scouting, nothing more, I promise." 

As uncomfortable he was with going back to his kidnappers with less than his usual weapons, he wanted to end this as far as possible. And hopefully without getting killed or getting the world killed. You never knew what those wanna-be-HYDRAS had as a goal. 

Reluctantly, Natasha nodded and conceded: "Okay, we'll do it today. But give me an hour to get into their systems and find out if there's someone I can impersonate to get in. That okay?"

"See if you can find someone for me, too," Clint added before Tony could reply. His voice was levelled, just a simple statement without any audible emotion behind it. "I'll feel better if there's someone with you." Which was, technically, not a lie. He cared for Natasha a great deal and although he knew that she could look out for herself, he hated risking people he loved - no matter if it was in a platonic way like with Natasha or... 

He didn't finish the thought and refused to look over at Tony while he waited for an answer. 

Natasha gave him an unfathomable look, but then nodded slowly as she replied: "I'll look for something." 

Already a bit distracted, Tony follows the short conversation of the agents, in his head going through all the steps he had to do before suiting up. It's been a while since he used that suit the last time, maybe he should check it over with JARVIS and run some minor updates. If he had to fly there mostly unarmed, he would at least go with his more recent flying system. 

Natasha's words seemed to wrap this meeting up. Hastily, Tony put his phone back into his pocket, nodded a faint good bye, before leaving without a glance to any of his teammates.

The others apparently stayed a bit longer, since no one besides Bruce was following him. His fellow science buddy remained silent, just listened when Tony instructed JARVIS to fly in his stealth suit. 

"You're really okay with that?" Bruce raised an eyebrow at him, leaning slightly against the workbench. It's the first thing he said to Tony since they'd left the meeting. The engineer looked up from his tech. "Sure, why not?"

"You're really asking why? You're going to fly into an enemy zone and these guys already kidnapped you once." 

The doctor glanced at Tony worriedly. It warmed him that his friend cared for him, even if it was sometimes an hindrance in his work. "Nah, don't worry, it isn't the first time I take revenge on the bad guys after I get free again." He tried to shrug the concern away and get ready for the arrival of the suit.

"I know, Tony. I know that."

When the engineer looked up to find out what the other man tried to imply, he only caught a glimpse of Bruce, vanishing around the corner. 

"Huh."

Clint leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the hem of his shirt uneasily. When nobody broke the silence that had descended after a few beats, he asked: "So, has anybody got anything to add to that? Else I'd suggest we get ready. Even if it's only Nat and I who are going in, I'd say the rest stays in the Quinjet as backup in case things go south. Which isn't all that unlikely, considering that we barely know anything."

"You got Natasha, though," Steve interjected, staring at the spy with a small, almost adoring smile on his face.

Clint suppressed a groan. _Fucking great_. "Yeah," he agreed, "yeah we do, and she's awesome, but – no offence, Nat – she's only human. There's a lot of ways this can go wrong, but we can't lose the time, so... get on with it, would you?"

While the rest filed out of the room, Steve briefly glancing back at Natasha and then murmuring to Sam quietly, Clint got up and rounded the table. He came to a halt behind Natasha and looked over her shoulder, reaching into his pocket for his glasses. Not that he couldn't read without them, but it was much more pleasant this way.

Also, they were from Tony. 

Natasha was already inside the data base and was going through their files, which were neatly organised with a folder for each employee. She selected one with the picture of a blond, short-haired man and looked up at Clint questioningly. 

"That'll work," he decided. "Just hoping he doesn't have a girlfriend there or anything." 

"We won't be talking to anybody," Natasha decided. "And I've got something to help with the face. Also, this guy's from Iowa, so you won't have to fake an accent." 

"Nat, you are a goddess." 

"I know. Now get ready while I search one for myself," she replied with a wink. "I know you want to get going." 

Clint gave her a small smile. "Yeah. See you at the 'jet." 

It was true; he was anxious to finally get moving. Yes, part of that motivation was, of course, that they might be building a really, really lethal weapon or whatever with the energy they had managed to extract from the reactor, but first and foremost was that they had touched his team mate, _this_ team mate in particular, and he was _not_ fucking having that. 

Hurriedly, Tony entered his workshop and grabbed one of his undersuits. This particular armour was a lot heavier and more uncomfortable to wear, he had never bothered to correct that, maybe he should do that after this mission, so he preferred to use the smooth fabric under it.

Nowadays, he didn't use them so much, since he had altered his normal armours perfect-fitting despite his undergarments, you never knew when the villains start seeking world domination. Their timing was unbelievable frustrating, Tony remembered the time he just had entered a fancy but very elaborate leather combination when the call to assemble got out. Those had been the worst five and a half hours in the armour, and yes, he did count the thing with being swallowed by a Chitauri whale.

"Okay J, let's get going!" His AI didn't answer until a few seconds later, a loud noise sounded outside the building. "The requested armour has arrived, sir."


	12. Chapter 12

Barely an hour after their meeting, the team got into the Quinjet while Tony flew ahead. They wouldn't get close enough with the 'jet to be noticed from the facility; Natasha had organised a vehicle that would be waiting for them with some distance from the actual organisation. She'd also managed to pull enough information from the files to design the artificial masks that she sometimes used for undercover missions. (Clint found them fucking creepy, but they were helping, so he wasn't going to complain.) They didn't have any voice samples, so that would not change, but they didn't plan a long-term mission anyway.

He studied the floor plan of the building while they took off; it didn't tell them anything about where the energy that had been stolen was located, but from his experience, his guess was some shady basement. Again. Because some stereotypes just didn't seem to let people go.

"How'd they even manage to take it with 'em?" he mused aloud, looking at Natasha and briefly squinting in irritation when his gaze was met from foreign eyes. Damn it, he was never going to get used to that.

"They seemed to have a backup plan for that," she responded. "We searched the building and took a look at the machine, but the reservoir or whatever it was they stored it in wasn't hooked up to the machine anymore when we got there. Someone must have taken it with them, somehow slipped from us. We found a back exit, that was probably how they got out."

Clint huffed in acknowledgement and looked back down at the floor plan as he adjusted the comm unit in his ear. It usually was a bitch to get them to cooperate with his hearing aids, but Tony, being Tony, had found a solution to that. The man was a godsend, honestly.

It didn't take that long until Tony reached the building JARVIS gave him the coordinates to.

"Okaaaay, guys I'm there," he announced while he came to an halt floating above the roofs of the buildings nearby. He already had activated his stealth panels, not wanting to give away his presence. "JARVIS, search for the energy signature, would you?" 

"Certainly, sir." 

After a few seconds the AI displayed the plans of the foreign building, marking thirty little dots and one bigger one in it. 

"Thanks, bud." Tony frowned a bit, uncertain what to do with this information. "Black Widow, Hawkeye, I've got he positions of the reactors energy, but it's somehow split up. JARVIS will sent the informations at your phones, but I think the most important one is the biggest."

While the agents collected the new informations, Tony took a look at the other security methods. "Apparently, they're just checking personalities at the entrance, pretty low key. It's really embarrassing being kidnapped by them." The engineer flew onto the backside, searching for back doors but finding only an emergency exit.

"Sir, shall I inspect the security system?" JARVIS offered when Tony didn't say anything for a few minutes.

"Uh, yes." He had been drifting away a bit, and gave his best to get his head back in the game. "Yes, do that, Jarv, I'll head back to the jet guys," he announced hastily, and left towards Clint and Natasha.

"Alright, we can get past that, no problem," Clint stated as he got in the car with Natasha. Their identities didn't live too far from each other, so if anybody asked, he was giving her a lift. The plus side of organisations like this one was that nobody asked too many questions that would probably be answered with "classified" anyway. 

They got in without any problems after flashing a fake ID in front of the bored guard's face and once again, Clint had to suppress an eye-roll at his damn _easy_ this was. 

"Alright, see you," he murmured to Natasha as they parted. The entrance hall was buzzing with activity and Clint kept his head down and shoulders hunched, attracting as little attention as possible while he headed towards the lower levels. Natasha was staying on this floor to see if she could manage to get her hands on some of their computers while he looked for where they stored the energy.

The staircase was quieter and so was the level that he entered; he barely encountered anyone on his way through the hallway. 

That was until he opened one of the doors at the side, intending to work his way through rooms and corridors until he found the right one, and slipped into the room behind it.

He barely had time to take his surroundings in as someone turned around (he knew that face, why did he know that face?), looked at him with eyebrows raised in surprise, and then stated with an Iowan drawl: "Oh look, I've got a twin brother." 

_Aw, fuck_.

He reached for the gun strapped to his thigh, but before he could even close his fingers around the handle, the other man had pulled the trigger of his own and the world around Clint faded to black. 

It didn't take too long to get back to the jet. The agents had already left, so JARVIS would communicate to them directly.

A bit relieved that his part was done, Tony dissembled the stealth suit and stored it away safely. As much as he hated it to wait and do nothing, in this situation he was glad that he was finished.  
The engineer shook his head, since when was he such a pussy? Sighing, Tony fetched himself a drink from the fridge (he had helped designing the jet, of course there was at least a fridge) and opened up his Stark Pad to track Natasha's and Clint's movements.

They had already passed the entrance and had split up. Everything went smoothly, no one seemed to bother them since they hadn't stopped in their movements.  
Right at the moment when Tony got up to pour himself another glass, Clint's little dot vanished. Hastily, the engineer set down the empty glass and bent over the tablet again. "Come on, what happened," he murmured while restarting the system. "Come on Clint, where are you." But apparently, it was no mistake of the programme, Romanoff's tracker was still active and worked without problems. That could only mean something happened to Clint's tracker, or Clint himself.

"Oh fuck." 

Clint woke up in handcuffs. Sadly, he immediately noticed that they were well-made and properly fastened. No wriggling out, then.

While that wasn't all that unusual, given his day job and everything, he was still working on the _why_. It came back to him in bits and pieces; bizarrely, the first thing he remembered was the weird plastic sensation of the mask on his face, followed be the realisation that it was now missing. 

_Aw, plan, no._

Since his eyes were still closed, there was a good chance that nobody had noticed him being awake yet and he couldn't hear anyone else in the room - no, he couldn't hear, period. Fuck, he couldn't _hear_.

That sent a brief jolt of panic through him, which he quickly repressed. Alright. He blamed not noticing that first on still being groggy and gathering his senses. Okay, so he could definitely still feel his hearing aids in his ears, but they were either disabled or completely broken. Not so great on a mission.

Still, he was alive, and although he recalled getting shot, he didn't feel any pain. A tranquilliser, perhaps? But he'd been out too fast for that.

With no other option left, he carefully blinked his eyes open. 

Tony sat down on the chair again, opened a different program and started typing. "JARVIS, check the programme," he insisted, never stopping typing himself.

"I am afraid, sir, that the system is running perfectly. But I cannot contact agent Barton either." 

Slowly, Tony allowed himself to panic. Clint was one of SHIELDs best agents, he wouldn't use his comm like baby agents would. If he couldn't contact Clint, it had to be serious.

"JARVIS, please say that they didn't get him. He can't let himself get kidnapped! He's a fucking spy!" The AI didn't respond, he knew when no answer was necessary. "I need to suit up! Inform the team!" Furiously, Tony jumped from the seat like it was on fire.

"Sir, may I remind you that you haven't brought any of your armoured suits with you?" 

The engineer froze, JARVIS was right, he had been in such a hurry to get ready that he hadn't placed one of his ordinary suits in the jet. Well, in his defence, it shouldn't have been necessary. "JARVIS. Get me a suit," Tony growled. 

Clint was greeted by the sight of heavy boots a few feet from his head. Presumably with someone attached to them. Hopefully. Everything else would be gross.

He looked further up and was greeted by crossed arms and, even further up, somebody talking to him with a vaguely irritated expression. The man he'd been impersonating. That was why his face had seemed so familiar.

And the guy was still talking. Right. 

Clint briefly considered letting him babble on, but since that would most likely not make things any less complicated. 

"I can't hear you," he cut right into the man's sentence. 

Richard, he remembered from the files, paused and furrowed his brows. Clint briefly rolled his eyes, but made the effort to read the guy's lips as he said something that went along the lines of _what do you mean you can't hear_.

"You killed my hearing aids, dumbass," he snapped, probably too loud; he'd been told that happened when he didn't have the aids. "What did you do to manage that, electrolyse me?"  
A smug smirk spread across the man's face, and god, Clint hadn't actually expected him to take that bait, but there he went, squatting in front of the archer and drawing his gun to present it. It has the same eery blue glow that the Tesseract guns had possessed.

 _Those_ were the energy dots that Tony had detected, Clint realised. Two weeks and they'd already made weapons out of it. Even if their goons seemed to be below the average when it came to intelligence, somebody smart had to be on top of all this. Or at least somewhere in their ranks.

He didn't bother to read Richard's lips while he stared at the weapon, trying to figure out its mechanisms. 

After all, he was a damn trained agent. He wasn't helpless just because his hands were cuffed.  
The design was indeed disturbingly similar to SHIELD's Tesseract guns, making him suspect that more than AIM behind it. Possible Hydra-members came to mind, because the remnants of SHIELD were sure as hell not involved in this. 

At least he hoped so. 

It took way too long for Tony's taste until the requested suit arrived. He still didn't know what the hell had happened to Clint and he was not happy about that. In the (frustratingly long) waiting time, he had alarmed the the rest that probably (most likely) the scouting had failed and they were on their way if everything went south. (Whatever the definition of that in Steve's opinion was. His own kidnapping had apparently not fallen under this definition, so Clint's wouldn't either, would it?)

After that he had tried to inform Natasha, but she hadn't been able to talk without getting spotted. So Tony only managed to warn her that her colleague most likely had been caught and that she should be as careful as possible. As if she wasn't always careful enough that it could nearly be called paranoid.

Well, she never had been kidnapped in her whole career, at least not if she hadn't intended to. 

"Sir, the suits ETA is approximately 2 and a half minutes." 

"Speed it up, J, this isn't about coming late to the prom, who knows what they are doing to Clint? Agent or not, he's only a human." 

It wasn't fair to take his frustration on the AI, but Tony had really better things to do than keeping an eye on his behaviour. Thankfully, JARVIS didn't scold him for that like he sometimes did, he had learned after years with Tony how to deal with the eccentric engineer.

"The suit has arrived, sir." It felt like it had been a lot more than two and a half minutes.

"Thanks, bud. Let's go." He wouldn't wait for the team to arrive, who knew what those guys were up to, they had nearly killed him. "Kay, Birdie, don't you dare dying before I'm in there!" 

Clint only started to pay attention to his captor again when his head was suddenly yanked back by his short hair and, purely by reflex, Clint surged forward and rammed his forehead against the man's nose, feeling a satisfying crunch as Richard reeled backwards. 

The archer straightened up, slightly off-balance due to the handcuffs, and was about to go after Richard when his arms were grabbed from behind as something hard hit the back of his head. His vision blurred briefly and although there was no real chance of getting away, he struggled just for the sake of it, cursing a blue streak meanwhile. 

He hadn't noticed that anyone else in the room, what with how he had been laying and unable to hear anything. 

He was pressed against the floor a minute later, a knee in his back and something cold pressed against the back of his neck. 

Since the normal suit was a lot faster than its heavier counterpart, Tony reached the building in nearly no time. He let JARVIS hack into the security system, manipulating the camera angles and their alarming system. The engineer really wasn't in the mood for being sneaky, in fact he was just a breath away from tearing down the whole thing. But not only didn't he know details where Natasha and Clint were, it would lead to a hell of a debriefing as well as another talk with Steve. And Steve- no that wouldn't be that great at the moment, especially not into at context. 

So he had to use the middle way, walking in and hoping the best. 

"Romanoff, send me the coordinates where Barton wanted to go to," Tony insisted, firmly ignoring the angry scold he got from the woman for coming in without backup _and_ plan. Nevertheless, in the next moment JARVIS projected the requested information on his HUD. The engineer smiled. "Thanks, Red. You've got a free wish." 

He was straightened forcefully until he knelt between two of the men with a split lip and his skull throbbing in pain. He was still glaring and throwing insults at the other occupants of the room, even though he couldn't hear their responses; that was until someone approached him with a roll of duct tape. 

"Oh no, don't you dare," he spat viciously, trying to get his legs out from under himself to kick out. It was mostly unsuccessful, he barely managed to back away push Richard back with one of his feet before an arm was slung around his neck and pulled his head back.

As he couldn't help but notice, though, they hadn't shot him – he wasn't sure yet if that was a good thing, because it meant they wanted him for something and that was never, ever pleasant.

Of course, he couldn't go to the point where Clint was seen last without being noticed. A famous billionaire in an Iron Man suit wasn't that easy to miss.

On his way he knocked out a handful of men and women who foolishly tried to stop him. Tony didn't bother to cuff them or hide their unconscious bodies, the rest could deal with it later, he had better things to do.

In this fashion, he more or less fought his way trough the basement floor, looking for signs where his teammate could be. 

Well, the thing that helped him in the end was a string of loud curses, spat out by the archer. Successful grinning he marched to the right door, raised his hand and ripped the metal door out of its casing. "Hello? Do I come at an unpleasant time?" 

Clint grinned on relief when he saw (felt) the door opening. He used the bafflement of that one second to kick out, catching Richard under the jaw and knocking him out successfully.

He froze when something cold pressed against the back of his head, forcing him to look down at the floor. It wasn't like he could read Tony's lips with the faceplate on anyway.

In the room were two men, one of them looked like the mask Clint hat put on as his cover. Shit.  
That one had been knocked out by the archer and laid on the floor at the moment, but Tony decided to keep an eye on him. He wouldn't give him a chance to get up unnoticed.

The other one stood behind Clint, pressing a pistol at the back of his head. Something was off with the weapon the other man held, the engineer noticed, but he was distracted by his kidnapped teammate.

The archer's head was facing the floor, thanks to the pistol behind him, and he wore handcuffs. Tony didn't doubt that Clint could deal with such a situation alone, but he still seemed a bit affected from whatever they did to destroy the comm connection.

Oh, how much would he like to just shoot those assholes with his repulsors, but he had to try to find out what they were planning. After this, the Avengers wouldn't be able to go undercover again. And the maybe most important question: why did they hold the archer hostage? Why didn't they just kill him?

In his ear Natasha informed him that she was on her way to Tony. Apparently, she had gotten their position from JARVIS. The engineer didn't answer her, not wanting to warn the man that the deadly assassin was coming for a visit.

"Okay, guys, what's that all about? Wanna tell me your awesome plan?" 

The still conscious guy gritted his teeth and pushed Clint's head a bit further down, just to demonstrate his power. Not that it would work on Tony, he knew that it was more a sign for helplessness that he tried to cover.

"Well, Mister Stark, maybe our plan isn't as 'awesome' as the one your team had," the man started, showing a slightly manic smile (wasn't that fantastic?), "but it's very easy and very successful. We want you and you want him. So just come over here and your little friend can go home."

Tony glanced at Clint briefly, but he didn't show any reaction, weird. Maybe it was an agent thing. 

"You still want more power from the reactor?" He but back an annoyed 'then why don't you just take the reactor?', Tony really didn't want to give them ideas. Especially not about ripping out the reactor, he'd had that already, thank you very much.

"It's a good way for producing weapons. What an irony, isn't it? Building weapons out of Tony Starks clean energy generator."

The engineer growled inwardly, but didn't move. He knew that as soon as he would raise his arm to shoot the man, Clint would be dead. It was really unbelievable how little of a split second it needed to pull a trigger.

Natasha's voice sounded through the comm connection again, she was right there. She was a surprise, it was most likely that she could knock out the bad guy without letting their teammate die. That was Black Widow, she'd done more complicated things.

Clint stared at the grey concrete floor, carefully keeping his breathing even. He had no idea what was going on and it drove him _mad_ to kneel here, fully aware that things were happening around him and still being unable to do a damn thing because he couldn't hear a word. He couldn't even read anyone's lips like this. He was right here and completely cut off.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp gust of air when a bullet passed him by, just millimetres from his face, and embedded itself in the concrete beneath. So no energy gun this time, they'd actually been ready to shoot him. How reassuring. Only a second later, the pain of where it had nicked his ear registered in his brain and he grimaced, but looked up to where Tony was standing, Natasha with her Widow's Bites poised behind him. She must have taken advantage of the element of surprise that turning up without premonition had granted her, taking the goon out before he'd had a chance to react. People who were _not_ Natasha needed a second for that, after all.

Glancing behind himself, Clint spotted the man who had been holding him down convulsing on the floor with electric shocks. Served him right. The second one was glancing back and forth between his colleague and Natasha, then very slowly crouched down to place his gun on the floor. _Look at that. A smart one._

Still slightly disoriented (and possibly a little bit panicked because he _still couldn't hear_ ), his gaze flickered through the room, trying to make up for the fact that he couldn't determinate its occupants in another way.

"Help Clint, I'll take care of those morons." Before she had finished her sentence, Natasha had already left her position behind Tony and headed to the one who had crouched down in defeat.  
The engineer glanced to Clint, who kept looking around the room out of unnatural wide opened eyes. He was pale and a faint line of blood went from his ear down his face. Was Tony mistakes or did his teammate looked afraid? But why? Everything was good now, wasn't it?

Obediently, the engineer closed the gap between him and the archer and and flipped up his face plate. "Hey Barton. You're with us?" The other man focused on Tony's face, frowning slightly.

"Tony..." 

Clint opened his mouth again to say something, but the engineer patted his shoulder carefully. (He didn't want to accidentally hurt him with the armour.) "It's okay, bud, I'll get those handcuffs off and we're getting you out of here." Distantly he wondered if Clint would want to fight with them, and yes they definitely would fight against this people, but his teammate looked not really fit for fight, like Steve would put it.

"Tony..." the archer said, but once more, Tony didn't let him finish. Instead he reached for the electrocuted guy and took the key out of his pocket. How careless were those guys? "Just a minute, Birdie."

Clint's head snapped back and forth between him and the two other men. Something was definitely wrong with him. "Hey, what's wrong?" Now a bit alarmed, Tony grabbed the shoulders of his friend firmly and turned him fully around.

Clint took a shuddering breath and forced himself to fix his gaze on Tony and trust Natasha to handle the goons. 

Tony's expression indicated that he had posed a question that Clint hadn't caught. 

"Hearing aids," he managed, paying attention to keep his words from slurring together. "Some sort of electric discharge. I can't hear." Some part of him was relieved that he couldn't hear his own voice right now; he had to sound _pathetic_.

Tony blinked. Uh. Of course, why hadn't he thought about that? If those guys had somehow disabled the comm, it wasn't unlikely that it had affected the hearing aids as well. He was a genius, why hadn't he noticed that? Now it was crystal clear, Clint kept glancing around, trying to miss nothing because he couldn't hear.

"Oh fuck, sorry Barton. Um, uh, you can't hear me, sorry. That was dumb. Um..." A bit helpless Tony lifted one of his hands from the archers to rub his neck, even if he couldn't feel it in his suit. "You can read lips, can't you? Um, you understand me?" The engineer felt himself start to babble, but he was a bit uneducated for this kind of problem.

"Um, Romanoff? Need a bit of help over here..."

A moment after Tony had helplessly glanced behind Clint, after a bout of words that were too jumbled together to read for him, Natasha was in front of him, both of her hands on his shoulders.

"Listen," he read from her lips, then she rolled her eyes at herself and continued, this time in sign language: _I need to go up, help the others. Tony is going to take care of you, okay? He is no good for indoor combat anyway._ She turned her head to the side to say something to Tony that Clint couldn't quite catch, but he was pretty sure that he saw the word "plan" in there somewhere.  
The archer took a deep breath and nodded. She smiled, patted his shoulder and hurried out of the room, one hand on the comm link in her ear.

"Um, well. I've no idea what she just said, but I'll bring you to the 'jet," Tony told without caring that Clint probably didn't understand a word. That was okay, he hadn't really addressed the archer anyway, but he was used to talking. To other people, JARVIS or even himself. It soothed him. 

At the moment, the engineer tried to comprehend how it had to be for the archer to stand here so vulnerable in the enemy's headquarters. Without his bow. Oh hell, if Tony was him his situation he would have gotten a panic attack right away. 

Swallowing, the engineer grabbed his teammates shoulder again so Clint would look at him again. The man was still trying to compensate his missing hearing with his eyes.  
Tony pointed to the door and picked up the gun one of the bad guys had dropped and shoved it into the archers hand. "Let's go. JARVIS, show me– damn, can't wear the helmet, can I?" He glanced to Clint. "You know what, drop it. We just shoot our way out." 

Unsure about whether he had read Tony's lips right, Clint picked his gun up from where it had been set down on a table. Now that he knew everyone in the room besides Tony and himself was either cuffed or unconscious, he was feeling slightly less nervous, but the uneasiness still gnawed at him and he couldn't help but keep glancing around for threats that he'd impossibly be able to hear approaching.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking you're thinking? Because I think I'd like to take cover if you plan on blasting the wall in," he stated, trying to plaster a wry grin onto his face despite his barely contained panic.

The slurred and louder than usual voice of his teammate let Tony stop in his thoughts and he gave the attention to Clint. The archer still hadn't stopped looking around the room like a paranoid bunny, and it was making the engineer grow uneasy. But he couldn't tell him to stop, the guy was deaf at the moment and to take away another sense from him (and it was the most important sense for him) was just cruel. Moreover, Clint didn't seem so well at the moment. Could it be that he was panicking?

Sighing soundlessly Tony caught the restless head of his teammate with his hand and gently forced him to keep his eyes on him. As clearly and slow as possible the engineer formed his next words, hoping that would be enough for Clint to understand. 

"Don't worry, I would warn you. Can you walk? I will take care of you." He even renounced his usual snark for his teammates sake. No need to confuse him with unnecessary words.

Clint licked his lips nervously before he nodded, or at least did the closest thing that he could with his chin in Tony's grip. He _knew_ that there was no-one around, logically, he did; but that didn't really make the uneasiness better that was caused by the fact that he was on a mission, in possibly lethal danger, and couldn't hear a damn thing. He had to rely on his eyes and... well. Tony.

That was surprisingly okay, actually. Tony might be thoughtless sometimes, but he was also one of those who were the most careful, sometimes bordering on over-protective, when it came to his team mates. 

"Alright," he gave in and swallowed. "Okay. Just... lead the way, I suppose." 

Tony shoot his friend a smile. "Good.", he nodded and let go of the archers face. "Jay? How's the team doing?" Carefully he laid a hand between Clint's shoulders and pushed him a bit to get him moving.

"At the moment, everything seems to go without problems. The hostiles don't have enough capacities to fight against the Avengers."

Satisfied, Tony thanked Jarvis and turned back to his teammate. "Okay, I have an idea. I'll watch your back, and you concentrate on looking in front of us? You trust me enough for that? That I'll keep you safe?"

Clint nodded without hesitation, surprising himself. 

"Sounds good," he agreed. "Just, um, don't try to _tell_ me when something's wrong. Hit me or something." This time, his smile felt more natural; he wasn't feeling as useless anymore now that he could do something and still be aware that Tony had his back.

He picked up Richard's gun when they passed the unconscious man by, quickly getting familiar with the mechanics on the strangely glowing weapon before he trained his eyes on the hallway before them again. 

"It doesn't kill," he told Tony while they made their way back towards the staircase. "But it's not like your repulsors either. They got me with it and I was immediately out cold. I s'pose you'll want a look at it later on."

Huh, that was interesting, so that was the explanation why that gun had seemed so weird to him. And it would be the reason why JARVIS had picked up so many splitters containing his reactors power. 

The were fast, they'd already used the stolen power for dirty purposes, Tony hadn't seen this coming. But of course they needed it to build weapons, they always did. 

The engineer nodded Clint a thank you and they made their way further through the building. Everything was quiet around them at the moment, maybe they were busy with fighting the rest of the boys and at a different level. Tony seriously doubted that Natasha had left anyone who had noticed her or his doings able to alarm one of the others.

When they reached the staircase, the engineer noted that Clint actually trusted him to protect his back, he wasn't sure if he should be flattered or worried. The archer was an agent, he was used to _not_ trust people with his safety. Could it be that he really wasn't okay and he had no other choice than to let it be this way?

Tony quickly checked his teammate for more visible injuries, but didn't find any. That relieved him a bit for now, so that he could concentrate to reach the next floor. 

"Oh great, here are some people who didn't get the memo that there are _Avengers_ attaching the base."

Clint tucked the 'real' gun away for now; although he was still tempted to shoot some of these idiots for what they had done, he wasn't about to go childish and uncontrolled enough to cause casualties that were going to weigh on his conscience later.

Instead, he decided to do a little field testing of the arc reactor guns. They were well-balanced enough for him to use without affecting his aim and they had the advantage of neither maiming nor killing.

Without hesitation, he took out whoever came near them, mostly before they had even had the chance to notice them. They may not be complete amateurs, but they were nowhere near Clint's level, and taking on Iron Man wasn't fun for anyone on the wrong side of the repulsors.

"Oh come on Barton, leave some for me," Tony complained, aware that the addressed man couldn't hear him and since he was routinely taking out another few bad guys wasn't able to read his lips.  
Apparently that were the last of the enemy's on that floor, so they moved on. Clint and Tony worked smoothly as a team, a result of a lot of shared missions. Even handicapped without hearing and with limited possibilities because of the indoor fighting, they were doing an excellent job.

They were nearly at the end when Tony noticed that those guys must have remembered that they had a prisoner. Shouting a commando, four guys ran into the room from the other side, apparently they had taken a different staircase. "Clint!", he shouted more out of habit than anything else, but remembered to grab his teammates shoulder to turn him around to see their new opponents. 

The archer was briefly disoriented, but quickly caught himself when he spotted the newcomers. He immediately had his gun trained on them, but he had no idea how the ammunition in that thing was handled, meaning he wasn't sure how many shots he had left, plus these guys weren't as unprepared as those whom they had taken out so far. Plus, there were four of them - and one of them was _talking_ , great.

Hoping that he could cause a small moment of confusion (and that Tony would remember his suit's automated targeting system), he yelled across the room: "Stop rambling, I'm deaf, you asshole!" 

Tony couldn't restrain himself and let out an inappropriate giggle. But that was okay, Clint couldn't hear him and these guys wouldn't be able to tell anybody.

But there had to be a reason for the archers behaviour. He glanced to the man next to him, thinking quickly. Maybe he wanted him to take those new ones down? Oh, he could do that!  
"And it's your fault!", Tony added and let his automatised missiles go online. The plates on his shoulders shifted as the small weapons positioned themselves. Without needing a commando, JARVIS took over the targeting (yes, the AI wasn't really needed for that, but why not?) and in a matter of seconds all four of them were down. Well, at least neither Clint nor himself had gotten hurt in their unplanned rescue and flight. That was more than Tony had expected.

"Come on," he said, tugging at his teammate's shoulder again, who busied himself with glancing around, searching for the guys' backup that didn't come.

They'd done it.

The rest of the way was surprisingly smooth. The entrance hall was very nearly empty and the few people they came across looked more like secretaries than any sort of soldier, and although facades like that could be elusive, the way they scuttled upon catching sight of them was a pretty good indicator.  
Clint spotted the Quinjet as soon as they stepped out of the building and exhaled in relief. With a brief look back at Tony, he hurried his steps, eager to get back into something that could come close to a safe space. He practically jumped in and headed straight for one of the seats, slumping down with a relieved sigh. He allowed himself to close his eyes for a second as he leaned his head back against the wall to breathe in and out deeply a few times, trying to convince himself that he was alright now and that he had gotten out alive, read as: there was no reason to panic anymore, he was _fine_.

Tony stared at the archer's back, when he nearly ran into their vehicle. Well, apparently he had been right, Clint had been afraid. Frustrated, the engineer not his lip, he felt guilty for not being more helpful, but at least they didn't get shot. That was something, wasn't it?

Tony entered the Quinjet and took a look around. Besides Clint, who just slumped down into one of the seats, and Bruce, who appeared from the cockpit, it was empty.

"I'm sure we've parked somewhere else," the engineer said, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "Somewhere less obvious..?" 

His science buddy gave him a look. "Yes you have, and it would have stayed that way if someone hadn't just decided to go in there on his own. And since the plan had failed anyway we decided it wouldn't hurt."

Well, Tony had to acknowledge, that Bruce had point there. "Yeah yeah, bad Tony, got it. But they had Clint. I mean, they'd captured him! Should I just wait here to make a new plan?" The engineer's arms were flying, desperately trying to underline his arguments. "Besides, he has done the same for me. It was just fair!" The scientist looked down and gave in, he didn't judge Tony for his unconventional and dangerous proceeding. He didn't approve, but he could understand. 

"So, since the rest is still out and it's just us, and you've nothing important to do anyways. Could you check on Barton? Then he doesn't have to go into medical later and I can take him down to the workshop."

Somehow, Bruce seemed surprised by his request and frowned deeply. "Sure...", he murmured.

"His hearing aids are dead, he needs new ones as soon as possible. We can't let him run around deaf until those shield morons get finished, can we?"

After little less than a minute, Clint opened his eyes again; not necessarily because he had calmed down all that much, but because he still felt utterly helpless if he had literally no sensory input at all. He spotted Tony talking to Bruce, and then the physicist's eyes landed on him. The archer got on of the characteristic Bruce-smiles, small and timid, with a reassuring edge to it, while the doctor approached him and knelt down in front of his seat. 

To Clint's surprise, Bruce lifted his hands and, after a short moment of hesitation, signed, _I will check your ears, is that okay?_ The signs weren't completely precise, but it was actual ASL. 

With a nod and a pleased little smile, Clint reached up to take the hearing aids out carefully. Once again paying attention to keep his voice somewhere near normal parameters as well as he was able to, he told Bruce: "I think my ears are okay. Not hurting or anything. They must've killed the hearing aids with some sort of electric discharge, but the rest of me is okay. As okay as ever, at least."

"Bruce, you can speak ASL?" Curiously, Tony got rid of the armour hurriedly and dropped down next to Bruce.

"I've learned a bit in India, it's far away from perfect, but for now it should be enough," the physicist informed him distractedly while taking a closer look at the archer's ears. He still looked more than uncomfortable, clutching his hands around the remnants of the hearing aids, but didn't say anything about that.

"What's that?", Bruce asked, pointing at the dried blood at the side of Clint's face.

"He got shot, well, not really... You know that, the guy missed, Romanoff knocked him out." Sighing, the doctor rose and went to get some disinfectant from the first aid kit on the Quinjet's other side.

Tony used that moment to sit down completely, leaning his back against the seats his shoulder nearly touching Clint's legs. Hesitantly he laid one of his hands on his teammates leg, hoping to calm him down a bit. The engineer didn't want him to panic, but he had no idea what to do. So he went with what he would like in that situation and draw little circles on the trousers.

Clint glanced down in surprise, catching Tony's slightly helpless expression. He gave the engineer a small, grateful smile and focussed on the grounding touch while Bruce turned back towards them with his supplies in his hands. The physicist's eyebrows shot up and he gave Tony a _look_ , unfathomable for Clint but maybe making sense for the other man, before he tore his eyes away and crouched back down in front of the archer. 

He didn't say a word, not that it would have had any use, while he disinfected and cleaned the small cut on Clint's ear that bled surprisingly much and then took care of his split lip.

Apart from that, there were only some small scrapes on his knees and elbows from the rough concrete floor; nothing that needed worrying about. He told Bruce as much and, albeit hesitatingly, the physicist let it go. 

Clint signed his thanks to him and then glanced from him to Tony in a silent question of 'what now'?

Tony rolled his eyes at Bruce, but felt himself blushing. Yes, he wasn't that great with that whole comfort-thing, no need to mock him about that. The scientist knew about his past more than most of the others, except for Rhodey and Pepper of course, so why was he so surprised?

"Are we waiting for the rest? Or are they taking the car back to the headquarters?" Tony asked Bruce when he noticed the archers questioning glance.

"Since Clint isn't fit for flying now, we have to wait for Natasha or Steve to come back." After he had told Tony, the physicist turned to the other man to translate it to him. Clint nodded acceptingly and leaned his head back again, but Tony grimaced unhappily.

"Do we have to wait? I could fly the 'jet, too. Just have to connect JARVIS with the engines," he whined and Bruce shoot him another look. "Oh come on, you know I can do that."

In the end, the physicist gave in and let Tony sat down in the pilot's seat, the Avengers were informed and would follow soon. Half an hour later, the trio had arrived back at HQ.


	13. Chapter 13

Clint followed Tony down towards the workshop while Bruce excused himself to go to the conference room so he could check up on the team. 

They descended the stairs in silence - not that they had much of a choice - and the archer politely looked away as Tony typed in his security code (he could get in through the vents anyway if he really wanted to). 

He followed Tony's movements with his eyes while he leaned against one of the workbenches, slightly tense with anticipation while the inventor rummaged around until he had Clint's other hearing aids, the BTE ones, and handed them to the archer. He took them with a grateful nod and, a few seconds later, he could hear the rustle of his own clothing as he lowered his hands again.  
"Oh thank god," he murmured. Glancing up at Tony, he added: "And you. You too."

The engineer huffed at his teammates words and crossed his arms in front of the reactor. He waited a few moments to give Clint the opportunity to acclimate himself again to the new aids, before he started talking again: "Can you hear me now? Yes? Good, then listen to me now, because you fucking scared me, you moron." At least the archer had the decency to shrink into himself a bit. But he didn't look annoyed by the engineers anger, more like glad? That he cared? Well, what did Tony know about that?

Without changing his posture, he stared at the other man, waiting for Clint to look up again. The look he got was a bit unsettling, so the engineer decided to change the topic again. "The aids okay? Or do they need adjustments?" Tony grumbled, the effects of his worry, the frustration still evident in his voice.

Clint smiled tentatively, holding it back because he was aware of Tony's mood. Still, he couldn't help the relief that allowed his pulse to finally return to normal levels as the adrenaline slowly dissipated. 

"They're okay," he replied, sitting on the edge of the workbench so he had a few inches on Tony, looking down at the other man. "Thanks anyway." Absently. he brushed his fingers along the cut in his ear, shuddering at how close that bullet had come. Things like that usually registered way after he was out of a mission. "Believe me, it's _really_ unsettling when you can't hear a damn thing and know someone's coming for you." He wasn't even sure why he was telling Tony that, he usually wasn't the over-sharing type. Maybe he just wanted to prevent them from falling into an awkward silence. He'd had enough silence for a while now.

Sighing, Tony let his arms fall down to his aides. He couldn't really stay angry at Clint, not when he hadn't really done anything wrong. When the roles had been reversed, the archer hadn't been angry at him, so why bother with that.

Moreover the former agent looked defeated and worn out, a bit helpless and uncomfortable in his skin. After a second of hesitation Tony caught Clint's wrist and pulled it back from his ear. "Stop it, it will start bleeding again.", the engineer scolded him briskly before he let go of him again. "Sure you're okay?"

Awkward once more Tony gestured at the archer, forced himself to not let his frustration boil up again at the thought that his teammate could have gotten hurt more. "Dammit, Clint!", the engineer spat when he didn't get an answer immediately. Well, that hadn't worked out so perfectly, maybe he should ask Bruce for some yoga exercises.

Slowly, while getting out of his own nervous, adrenaline-fuelled haze, Clint began to realise that _Tony_ was more than a little unsettled as well; in some corner of his mind, he registered that the inventor had used his actual name instead of 'Birdie' or some of his other nicknames. He'd done that before, once on the plane, but it was rare. 

Clint could comprehend his frustration all too well; he knew it from himself, when he got back from a mission that _hadn't_ been solo and Natasha or Phil had gotten hurt, and he'd been snappy and defensive because he still felt like they could slip away any moment, because he couldn't quite grasp yet that they were _there_ and nobody was dying.

Just how did one convince somebody that he was indeed alive and well? 

Doing the first thing that came to mind (possibly encouraged by some leftover adrenaline), he cupped Tony's face with both hands and pulled him close as he leaned down, connecting their lips in a rough kiss. Tony needed a moment, but then returned it with equal fervour, steadying himself on the workbench on either side of Clint. 

The archer moved back after a few seconds, not dropping his hands as he murmured: "I'm right here, I'm fine, and I'm not going anywhere. Okay?" 

Frozen, Tony stared into the archer's eyes, not moving an inch to dislodge the warm hands. "Y- yes... Sure. Of course, sure, where would you go?", he murmured, not daring to pull away.

The engineer swallowed before he loosened his grip on the workbench and instead positioned his hands on Clint's hips. "Show me you're fine." Tony didn't ask, he demanded, somehow needing a proof for his teammates words. "Come on, show me!" In the next second he dived into a heated kiss again. It was hungry, not that kind of hunger that was created by sexual tension, but that one that made sure that nothing had changed. The kiss was hard and fast, tongues fighting with each other more than that they played, and Tony pushed Clint further on the table. He didn't resist the slightest.

The archer wrapped his arms around Tony's neck, pulling him flush against his own chest and wrapping his legs around the inventor's waist to hold on to him even tighter while he showed him, no, showed them both that there was nothing to be afraid of. They were fine, and that wasn't going to change now, because what had been at the facility was behind them.

He ran one of his hands through Tony's unruly hair, sticking up the way it always did after he had worn the suit, and let his fingernails run over the other's scalp to feel him shudder slightly. 

They were as close as they could get and Clint allowed himself to revel in the concern, the care that was directed from Tony at _him_ , let himself be grounded by that, no matter how needy that might be. 

Groaning, Tony moved his hands to Clint's butt, groping it through the fabric of the trousers. The archer sighed near to his ear, buried his face in the crook of Tony's neck. Using that position for his advantage, the engineer moved his mouth over Clint's neck. He knew the spot where he had made the hickey the last time and decided to mirror it today. The only kind of warning he gave his teammate was a short lick about the skin.

A startled cry left Clint's lips and he arched unconsciously against Tony and created friction between the engineers thighs. Grinning madly, he did it again, now without the sucking, but it did its job anyway.

As fun as that was, impatience started to rise inside of him, urging him to get to the point. Tony complied to his own wishes, nearly tearing open the archers shirt. To rid them of their clothes easier, the engineer sat Clint down on the workbench and the arms around his neck vanished.

The archer didn't resist, but assisted Tony in removing his shirt, then leaned forward and grasped the hem of the undersuit that the inventor had worn for the mission, pulling it over Tony's head in one swift movement. He ran his hands up the sides of Tony's chest, calloused fingers brushing over smooth skin and prompting a shudder from the inventor. His gaze briefly caught on the reactor, and although there was no reason to worry about it, he was relieved to see that it was still right there and undamaged, without blood around the rim or cracks in its glass. Fear made people nervous about the most unlikely things.

Tugging Tony closer again, Clint ran his hands down the engineer's back until he met the waistband of his jeans. He hooked his fingers in the belt loops and pulled the inventor forward, exhaling a shuddering moan as they pressed against each other. 

"C'mere," he murmured, "We're fine. Lemme show you." He leaned back down for another kiss while he moved a hand between them to unbutton Tony's jeans and slide a hand down over the inventor's abdomen to his silky underwear, squeezing through the soft fabric. 

The reward Clint received was a throaty groan followed by a hand in his hair that pulled his head into his neck. "Yes, you'll show me. But first..." Tony lowered his mouth down to the displayed Adam's apple, suddenly slowing down his movements. Without continuing his sentence the engineer opened his mouth, embracing the slightly jumping spot and sucking at it worshippingly. Clint shuddered under his hands, and let out a silent, squeaking sound.

"... We'll get rid of these." 

Tony pulled at the archers trousers, not bothering with separating it from the boxers and throw it on the workshop floor. "Now you can show me," he smirked. 

Clint took a second to lean forward and nip at Tony's neck before he pushed the inventor backwards and slid off the workbench. He took the brunet by his shoulders and turned him around so his back was pressed against the cold steel.

Without much preamble, he slid to his knees, suppressing a wince as he remembered they were still sore. He pulled Tony's jeans down as he went, freeing the inventor's growing erection, and briefly glanced up from beneath his lashes before he flicked his tongue out over the shaft once and then wrapped his lips around it.

Groaning with pleasure, Tony drew his head back, not thinking about holding himself back, and let his hands wander into Clint's hair.

He gripped tight, just on the right side of painful, and started directing the archers movements. The kneeling man in front of him let out a muffled sound but made no sign of actual discomfort. Instead, he relaxed his throat so Tony could control the pace with fewer problems.

Pleased by that, the engineer hummed something affirmative and held the archer in place for a moment.

Clint moaned low in his throat, his hands flying up to Tony's hips to steady himself as he let the inventor take control. Tony was rough, harsh, but not careless. He did most of the work; Clint concentrated on breathing as well as he could and let the other man take what he needed. 

When he moved back, Clint was gasping for air, eyes closed and lips parted; his heart was hammering in his throat and he stumbled slightly as he got to his feet. Reflexively, he clutched at the other's shoulders to stay upright, blinking up at Tony and breathlessly grinning at the inventor's dishevelled appearance.

Growling, the engineer got a hold on Clint's hips again, leaned in for a wet kiss without pulling him close. He could taste himself besides the archer when he claimed the other man's mouth once more for himself; he didn't mind. 

But he extracted himself soon from the kiss, planning to _finally_ take the last step. Not waiting for Clint to catch on his doing, Tony spun them both around, turning the archer and pushing him face down onto the workbench. For once in his life, he was glad that he had tidied it up.

Now his teammate was bent over delicately, steadying himself with his arms on the tabletop, his butt on perfect display. Oh, this was going to be great. 

Clint took a few steadying breaths, relaxing at the feeling of Tony's hand on the small of his back. There was the distinct sound of a bottle of lube being opened (where the hell Tony stored all these, he really didn't know) and then, after a brief moment of anticipation, the archer found himself biting his own wrist to stifle his breathy moans as Tony began to prepare him. He was fast, efficient and just thorough enough to make sure that it wouldn't hurt past the limit of being mixed with pleasure.  
He felt a shiver run through his body as Tony scissored his fingers and hissed quietly before he took an unsteady breath and managed to get out a whimpered, "that's enough, Tony, _please_ ," as he pushed back against the inventor's fingers. 

With his free hand, the engineer pushed Clint's head back down gently. He had noticed a while ago that people tended to try to turn their heads around in this position, and Tony loved seeing his teammate like this.

Grinning slightly, he pulled out the fingers, giving the other man no opportunity to even whimper before pushing in without further hesitation.

Clint's body under him shook in the most arousing way, clenched around him so that Tony had to close his eyes for a moment. "Is that better? That's what you want?" he asked rhetorically while starting to thrust teasingly, setting for a slow pace. The engineers hands stroked the tense muscles of Clint's back soothingly, digging the fingers into little knots before going on. Under him it was now the archer who was growing impatient and just this once, Tony just obeyed the wish and picked on a more satisfying rhythm.

"God, please, yes," Clint managed to get out, barely more than a whisper as he tried to accommodate to the pain that came with the first few thrusts, wrangling with pleasure on the forefront of his mind. 

He arched his back, not sure if he wanted to get away because it was too much or if he wanted to get closer, _more_. His fingers scrabbled over the tabletop uselessly until he found the opposite edge and clenched them around it so he would have something to hold on to.

Clint was well beyond words already; all that he managed to utter were half-choked moans and fractals of words without anything resembling coherence. The steady movement of Tony behind him, _inside_ him, the coldness of the workbench against his heated skin and the pleasure, still bordering on pain, created a contradictory sensory overload that left him a shivering, panting mess beneath Tony.

Moaning with barely contained pleasure, the engineer bent over until his skin brushed over Clint's back. So close to the other man, he felt the heavy twitching of his muscles against his own, and Tony revelled in it.

While breathing harshly, he found the archers shoulder with his mouth and started peppering wet kisses on it. The body under him kept writhing, but Tony didn't speed up again, not yet.  
Instead he let his lips wander over the archer's neck, never faltering in his thrusts. The engineer reached Clint's unharmed earlobe and gave it a trying lick. When his teammate groaned helplessly under him, Tony grinned wickedly.

He spent quite some time just teasing the archer in that way, remembering all his reactions for later use, until he felt himself coming closer to the edge. Reluctantly he let go of Clint's neck, raising up again so that they were in the previous position. Both men shared a groan at the slight shift, and the archers hands gripped tighter at the workbench.

For a second, Tony stilled to catch his breath, before he slung one of his arms around Clint's hips to hoist him up from the table, the other hand sneaked around the man and found his so long ignored length. The startled cry was nearly worth it to do it again but decided against it. instead the engineer used their altered position for even deeper thrusts than before, burying himself deep inside the archer.

Clint trembled helplessly, arching against his back in attempt to get closer. One of his hands let go of the table's edge so he could steady himself on his elbow, forehead dropping towards the cold metal. 

He managed a strangled moan of " _Tony_ ", but was interrupted by another forceful thrust, making him whimper. He gasped for air, trying to remember how to breathe, and tried to push back against the inventor with a steady stream of incoherent pleas on his lips, Tony's name always somewhere in between.

He was painfully close, shivering with the almost electric spark of lust that ran through his whole body, and he needed just a little more, just a _little_ , and god, was he saying that out loud?

The engineer groaned at the unconscious babbling of his teammate. He tightened the hold around Clint's waist, to keep him from continuing his movements, Tony was too close for that. Meanwhile his other hand started stroking, barely touching, not quite enough to push the archer over the edge. Not yet.

"You're begging, Barton. God you're so hot when you're doing that," the engineer panted, searching for the perfect angle to thrust. Clint could barely hold himself on his elbow anymore, and let himself fall back on the table helplessly.

Another incomprehensible stream of words fall from the archers lips. "Dammit, Barton," he grunted, _now_ starting to move his hand in earnest.

Then it was only a matter of seconds until Clint cried out in pleasure and went limp on the table, Tony followed his teammate suit. 

For god knew how long, just seconds or several minutes, the archer lay spread out over the table, Tony's weight pinning him down while he tried to catch his breath. He was still trying to gather his wits when Tony straightened up, leaving the archer's back strangely chilled, and pulled out. 

Clint blamed it on the adrenaline rush from before that he hadn't noticed that they had completely forgotten about using a condom. Well, it wasn't like he was going to get pregnant and he was fairly certain that they were both careful (at least, well, usually) in that regard, so he didn't waste another thought on that. 

Instead, he focussed as many brain cells as he could muster up right now on picking himself up from the workbench at least far enough to steady himself on his elbows. Briefly, he winced at the sudden feeling of emptiness, but didn't pay it too much attention as he glanced over his shoulder with a small grin and asked hoarsely: "Convinced?" 

Jesus, he _sounded_ completely fucked out, he didn't want to know what he had to _look_ like.

Still with ragged breath, Tony just looked at Clint. The man laid there, flushed, damp and with ruffled hair, body shaking under the aftershock every now and then. But that was nothing against his _face_.

The archer's pupils were still dilated, even if barely noticeable under the heavy-lidded eyes. On his face the blush was even more prominent, letting him look so very young and vulnerable. Tony really had to resist the urge to brush away the dishevelled strands sticking to his forehead.

"For now, maybe I need a brush-up later.", the engineer winked and picked up his clothes.  
Clint didn't move until he passed the man his clothes, too. They really shouldn't run around here naked, not only because of surprising visitors but the low temperature in the workshop. 

The archer began to slip back into his shirt with sluggish movements, grinning at Tony.

"Anytime," he replied, "I'm not going anywhere. Except the shower. Yeah, I _really_ need a shower." He was honestly surprised that he could already string sentences together again, even if it was just for the sake of babbling.

He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, making it stand up in unruly spikes even messier than before, and watched Tony from the corner of his eye as he got back into his jeans. The inventor still had a slight flush on his cheeks, a content gleam in his eyes and his hair tousled from where Clint had run his hands through the brown strands.

The archer was just about to lean back against the workbench when he thought better of it and glanced down at its surface as he remarked: "I _think_ I've made a mess."

Tony's eyes flew to the tabletop and he smirked slightly. "Oh I think you're right. I was all clean and tidy, and look what you've done," he teased lightly, shaking his head in mock exasperation. 

The engineer tapped his teammates shoulder while glancing around the workshop searchingly. "Don't worry about that, I'll take care of it. Just go and get some rest." Dum-E whirred to life and passed him a cloth. Tony didn't want to let him near JARVIS' equipment that was still scattered around the room.

Clint headed towards the door. "Um, Clint..." The archer stopped and glanced back to him. "Thanks."

"Back at you," Clint responded quietly and held Tony's gaze for maybe a second too long before he forced himself to turn back around and push open the door to the workshop. 

He was barely halfway up the stairs, eyes more or less focussed on the steps as he gingerly climbed up, already beginning to feel sore (and sticky, definitely sticky), when he very nearly runs into Bruce. 

Now, this was awkward. 

"Heyyy," he greeted, drawing the word out long as the blush he was pretty sure he'd had lost by now returned to his cheeks. 

"Hey, glad to see that you've got replacement aids," Bruce smiled kindly at the obviously uncomfortable archer. "Tony's taken good care of you then?" He was aiming for multiple meaning on purpose, since the engineer had been pretty clammed up about what had happened to get those two together, he hoped for some information.

It wasn't like he like sticking his nose into other people's business, but he was worried about his friend and had given himself the promise to keep an eye on him.

Clint stared at the physicist, possibly flushing an even darker shade of red. Had _Bruce_ just...? And what was he supposed to answer to that, anyway? _Yeah, I just got fucked over a workbench by your best friend until I saw enough stars to give an astronomer work for years, hope he's done cleaning up by the time you get down there_. Thanks, but no thanks.

"He did," he replied after a few seconds. Obviously, his brain wasn't quite back online yet. "Very good. He does that." Clint winced. That had sounded wrong - or, well, maybe exactly right. Depending on the perspective. 

Another smile tugged on the physicists mouth, even if he felt slightly guilty for picking on Clint's weak spot.

"Yeah, he obviously does. Glad you're feeling better, though." Bruce paused, watching his teammate fidgeting on the spot. "Just one question, what sight will I be greeted with?"

The flush on the archers face seemed to deepen again, let Bruce chuckle inside himself, before he sobered up again. "I mean, is Tony feeling better too, or is he still running around manically?" 

Clint chuckled, some of his nervous tension beginning to dissolve as he answered: "Nah, he should be more relaxed now, unless I did something _really_ wrong. With my hearing aids, I mean." He cleared his throat. "Anyway. I'll be heading for the shower, if you don't mind." After taking a step up he stairs, he added as an afterthought: "Oh, and don't worry, he's dressed. Just go ahead." 

"Thanks," Bruce nodded and made his way into the workshop. True to the archers word, Tony seemed a lot better than on the plane, sprawled out in his chair, legs propped up on the workbench.  
The physicist frowned and took a closer look, but even then he couldn't stop noticing that his friend appeared a lot more composed than Clint had. Sure, the dark hair was tousled and the clothes were wrinkled, but that wasn't too unusual for the workaholic engineer. Someone without the knowledge about what had just happened could've been fooled. Bruce wondered if Tony was just lucky or If he just had more experience in this kind of quick intercourse, so that he could be so put together already. What else could be different between Clint and Tony otherwise?

The doctor froze in his thoughts. Could it be...? No he wasn't the type to jump to hasty conclusions. 

"Hey Tony, the rest arrived, do you want to unpack your suits yourself?" 

Clint managed the rest of his way to the shower without interruptions; the others were probably still out at the base. 

Which reminded him, he should check up on Natasha as soon as he had gotten his brain back into working order. 

The shower helped him to clear his head, washing sweat and, well, other fluids from his body and relaxing him even further, if that was possible. By the end of it, he felt more tired than exhausted, grimacing at the thought that he had a debrief ahead of him. 

With a bit help from Bruce (the only one whom he really trusted with his suits) Tony stored the two suits back into the workshop. The engineer felt the piercing gaze of his friends on him and he knew what was going to come. 

"So, I think I'll get a shower before Rogers shows up. No need to disturb the poor relic," he grinned distractingly and tried to sneak around Bruce and upstairs. But the physicist wasn't dumb, he knew what Tony was doing.

Sighing he slumped down on his chair, still watching the engineer. "You won't tell me what's going on, will you? I know it's nothing bad." Confused Tony frowned at the doctor: "Why would you know it's nothing bad?" That made Bruce smile again. "In that case you would have told me at the beginning. You're too eager to tell your evil plans."

The man pouted and crossed his arms below the arc-reactor. "That's not true... Well, yes, maybe it is.. But no need to call me on that! Everyone has their mistakes!" His friend rolled his eyes kindheartedly and let him flee from the workshop without another word.

About an hour later, the team filed out of the room, each in various states of exhaustion. As it turned out, they had managed to confiscate every weapon that was fuelled by the arc reactor energy, as well as the core they had stored most of it in. Apart from Clint's little escapade, it had all gone quite smoothly.

Although he had to admit that sitting had been a little uncomfortable – and he had _seen_ Tony's smug looks in his direction when he'd squirmed, he had sharp eyes, dammit.

Natasha left the room next to him, her eyes fixed on him in that unnerving manner of hers. Clint stayed stubborn almost all the way to his room before he blurted out: "Okay, _what_ is it?"

She smirked. "You've got a hickey." 

The archer's hand twitched at his side as he kept himself from covering the mark up. Raising an eyebrow, he responded: "Yeah? I had that last week already, remember?" 

She mirrored the gesture and reminded her just how many unspoken words she could convey with just that one small movement. "Clint," she said slowly, looking like she was about to start laughing, "it's on the wrong side." He blinked and she clarified: "The wrong side of your neck." 

The archer took a deep breath and let it out again when he couldn't come up with anything to say. He settled on "ah". Sheepishly, he scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "It could've worked?" 

She reached up to pat his shoulder. "It really, really couldn't." 

Bruce decided to visit the lounge-like thing at the avengers quarters floor, something he didn't doubt was designed and included by Tony without being accepted by Fury. 

He had found the surprisingly cosy room on his little sneak-bugs-everywhere mission and hadn't spared it another eye since then. But now he wanted to give his friend a bit of space, so he decided against returning to the workshop today.

Besides the obligatory bar (that seemed to be found in everything Tony had ever laid hands on) and some decorative plants (clearly _not_ included by him, Tony only had use for botanic if he could use it for weird experiments), there were a plush sofa and some armchairs, loosely forming a half circle around a mahagoni coffee table. It was the kind of furniture you would expect in a mansion, not a super-secret and badass organisation's headquarters. It was clearly designed more for movie nights than for debriefings, and somehow Bruce was touched by the thought. This room made the sterile and clinical looking building a bit more homey.

After Bruce helped himself with a glass of juice out of said bar, he allowed himself to get comfortable in one of the armchairs. While he was still contemplating if he should ask JARVIS to put a movie on the big screen on the opposite wall of the sofa, Natasha entered the lounge. 

She spotted the physicist immediately and gifted him with a small smile as she strolled over to the bar, grabbed herself a small glass and a bottle of vodka and flopped down in an armchair not too far from Bruce. She had showered, her damp hair was still curling over her shoulders, and changed into comfortable sweat pants and a T-shirt. 

Wordlessly, she poured herself a glass and downed it in one swallow before she refilled it and began to nurse the second helping more slowly. 

Glancing over towards Bruce, she said as a way of explanation: "My best friend is an idiot." 

Hesitating, the physicist sent her a small smile. "Oh you're not alone with that. What's Clint done now?"

The redhead shot him a thoughtful look and put her glass down on the table. Maybe now he would get some more information about what had been going on in his absence. Natasha was the human equivalent to JARVIS in the matter of knowing things, even I she kept things to herself most of the time.

Natasha contemplated her words for a moment; she knew that Bruce was close to Tony, but she also didn't think of him as somebody who walked around telling other people's secrets. And she was good with assessing people. 

Still, she stayed purposefully vague as she replied: "He has an interesting way of dealing with... stuff. And I know that he's going to end up hurting himself, but I can't very well go and tell him to stop, can I? I'm not his mother." She sighed. "And what did yours do?" 

Bruce stayed silent for a moment, thought about the information he had just received and sorted it into his own observations. "Well, there is something that he doesn't want to speak about. Instead he apparently found another way to deal with it, but I'm not sure if that's so healthy. You know, I would help him, but he just tries to distract me every time I'm approaching with that." The physicist groaned in frustration and rubbed his forehead.

Natasha smiled sympathetically. 

"The thing is, what are we supposed to do? These are grown men we're talking about. Even if it rarely ever feels that way." She took a small sip of her drink. "So yours isn't telling you anything?" It couldn't hurt to ask, after all. She wasn't necessarily spying, just... casually picking up information. Nothing wrong with that. 

The doctor frowned faintly, he wasn't sure how much he was allowed to say to Natasha, how much she already knew. The last thing he wanted to do was upsetting Tony again. "No, I only know what I've deducted myself. And of course that he and Clint are using each other for stress relief." 

Absently Bruce turned his glass between his hands, staring into nothing. "I've got the feeling that there is something with Steve, too. You know something about that? I've got the feeling in those few month of my absence some things have happened with the team." 

"Let me put it like this," Natasha said, leaning back with the glass held delicately between her fingertips. "I'm not telling anyone any names, but _somebody_ really likes Steve, likes him enough to kiss him, actually, but got rejected. So he turned to another unnamed person to help with his frustration, and that other person was more than willing to provide because he's a moron and has no idea how to deal with feelings."

The last part was spoken harsher than the rest and followed by a frustrated sigh before she added: "At least that's how I pieced it together. And I can't do a _damn thing_! Not without betraying somebody's trust or telling secrets that weren't meant to be told." She took another frustrated swallow. "So yeah. There's that." She levelled Bruce with an intense look. "Nothing I said leaves this room."

The corner of Bruces mouth quirked up a little at the _very subtle_ way of Natasha to fill in his gaps. But it didn't stay very long, instead he shook his head in disbelief. "So he really has feelings, I hoped I had over-interpreted things... And Tony has no idea, hasn't he?" His hand fisted his hair, roughly brushing it back. "And he kissed Steve, oh that's so Tony..." A bit helplessly the physicist glanced up at her through his curls, taking in her boiling frustration in her usually well controlled features.

"Those idiots...", he shook his head again, unable to do anything else. Bruce closed his eyes and remembered the day when Tony turned to Clint the last time, apparently right after he had kissed the captain. Frowning he mumbled: "That was the first time, or at least he let it sound like it... That was right after we... God, I made it even worse."

Natasha, sipping her drink, watched him and his slightly out of character rambling closely. "But what shall we do now?" 

"What are you asking me for? I just always act like I know everything, I don't have any actual idea how to deal with this. I'm still better at it than Clint is, though." She huffed, swirling the clear liquid in her glass.

She just wasn't used to feeling helpless. There was always something she could do, giving up hadn't been taught to her in training, it wasn't her style. But this was something entirely else and as much as she hated to see her best friend getting drawn into the magnetic field that was Tony, she found that there was nothing she could do about it. 

It wasn't even like Natasha could blame Tony. He didn't do anything because he had evil intentions or nonsense like that. He simply didn't _know_ , had no way to know – Clint would probably prefer getting shot over discussing his feelings and the only other persons who knew about those were herself and Bruce, both intending to keep that particular secret a secret.

After all, what good would it do to tell Tony? It wasn't like knowing about the feelings Clint was harbouring was going to magically make him reciprocate. There was the not too unlikely possibility that the whole thing was going to get awkward and the inventor would distance himself from Clint, and Natasha really didn't want to do that to her idiot archer. Whether the current arrangement was any better for his heart was debatable. 

"I really don't know," she repeated quietly. She was getting far too involved in this. it wasn't _her_ love life after all, but if Clint couldn't handle it on his own, he needed someone else to do it for him.  
If she only knew how to. 

Resigned, Bruce dropped his gaze into his lap. Natasha was as clueless as he was and that said something. Why was he even surprised that Tony managed to involve himself in something like that?

"Yeah...", he mumbled back. "Me neither." 

A few minutes the two Avengers sat in silence, both lost in their own thoughts and not really keen to change that. In the end Bruce rose up, wished Natasha a nice evening and left the lounge. He had the urge to do something but he still didn't want to revisit the workshop. So the physicist shuffled to his quarters, remembering the half-read book he had brought to the headquarters.

But only after a few pages the man had to admit that he couldn't concentrate on the plot and he gave it up. Absently, he wondered if Natasha was still sitting in the lounge. 

Said spy, having remained in her armchair, was still absently swirling her vodka around in its glass while she stared at the darkening sky outside.

She listened up when she heard careful steps from outside, not Bruce's quietly shuffling ones, but more determined while still being light. 

"Hey, Steve," she greeted, glancing up. The soldier stood in the doorway uncertainly, a sketchpad clutched in his hands. "Come on in." 

He smiled. "Thanks," he replied, making his way over towards a small couch, where he neatly laid a few pencils out on the cushion before he flipped the book open. Then, he looked back up at Natasha, again with that small, tentative smile. "Do you mind?"

It took her a second to understand, another look at his posture angled towards her and the sketchbook in his lap before the question made sense. 

"Not at all," she replied with a hint of surprise in her voice that she didn't bother to hide. She wasn't self-conscious by all means, but she hadn't expected the request either. "Go ahead."


	14. Chapter 14

The next few days passed without something worth to mention. Bruce began to slowly readjust to the life with the team and started to accept the headquarters as a new home (at least temporarily). Even if he spent most time of his days in the workshop with Tony, he was found in the gym every now and then, too. There, he watched the other Avengers train and got to know Sam Wilson a bit better. He was a good friend of Steve and had joined the team after Bruce had left. One day, he was told by Natasha (they had stared to rebuild their kind-of-friendship after the evening in the lounge), that Colonel Rhodes, Tony's best friend, was a new team member, too, but at the moment was needed on a military base.

So everything had calmed down, the engineer had dragged Bruce out of the library the day after Clint's kidnapping and involved him into his experiments. Neither of them talked about the mess Tony was into, but the physicist was okay with that at the moment.

It was a normal morning, the Avengers (minus Rhodes and Tony) were sitting at the breakfast table, eating in silence as they usually did. After a few more minutes, a half-sleeping engineer strolled into the kitchen, making a beeline to the coffee pot. He poured himself a cup, drowned it without even bothering to sit down, grabbed another one and after that slid on his usual chair next to Bruce.

Another few moments in friendly silence, the physicist stopped in his tracks. "Vision? Since when are you here again? And... Wanda, right? That's your first name, isn't it?" How could he missed the fact that two people more were sitting at the table with them? Or even more important, how could he forget that there were two members _missing_?

"What did you two do?" he asked, still a bit surprised.

"Mission," came the reply from next to Steve. Falcon was shrugging his shoulders at Bruce's glance. 

Clint was apathetically staring down into his coffee cup, not even halfway awake yet. He registered the murmur of conversations without listening; he'd only bothered to get up because Natasha had pulled the blanket off his bed and insisted he attend team breakfast because the other two were back from wherever the hell they'd been. 

The mention of his name made him look up and he blinked at Natasha in slight confusion. He groggily adjusted his hearing aids and muttered: "What?" 

"We were talking about the zombie apocalypse," she explained, nodding in Steve's direction, who looked a little sheepish, "and about how to tell you from a zombie before your first coffee. So far, we didn't find any differences." 

His brain was still too clouded to come up with a witty response, so the archer just flipped her off and murmured: "Just you wait 'til I'm awake. I'll... I'll do something. Something I can't think of right now." 

"Good luck," she replied sympathetically, reaching over to pat his shoulder while he lifted the mug to his lips and took his first few sips of caffeinated heaven. 

Tony stood up to get the coffee pot from the machine, not only filling his own, but Clint's mug, too. He wasn't enough of a monster to deprive the archer the coffeine he needed. Well, maybe he was, but the last time it had ended with the engineer only finding decaf in the whole building. That had been a horrible day for everyone.

"Well, actually, we spoke about Vision's and Wanda's honeymoon," Tony corrected while setting up a new pot of coffee. A smile crept onto his face when his teammate choked on his drink. The startled " _what_ " satisfied him to no end, a little fix-it for the fact that he hadn't known that detail until two minutes ago, either. "Yes, my lil' android was on honeymoon in France! Can you imagine that? I've got a lot of stuff there but was I asked? No! They've stayed in some random hotel."

To be honest, the engineer was pulling of a show again, silently mourning over the distance that existed between the Vision and himself. Oh, how much would he have liked to talk to the creature he helped to birth, but somehow it never happened. Now Vision was married to a woman who (had) hated Tony, without him even been told,

Clint, stalling, took another sip of his coffee while he regarded the... couple? 

"He's an AI and she's a witch," he murmured. "That just sounds like the start of some very weird novel. Oh, that was rude, wasn't it? Sorry." He raised his mug in the direction of the two in the imitation of a toast. "I... good luck, I suppose?" 

Wanda smiled slowly, her eyes fixed on him. After a few seconds, she replied: "Thank you. And to you, too." 

"What? I don't have – oh." _Aw, mind-reading, no._ Clint cleared his throat and resisted the urge to glance around the table nervously, and why had everybody gone so quiet all of sudden? With a strained little smile, he resumed: "Thanks, but that's not necessary. I'm, uh... just forget it." 

He was too tired for this sort of talk right now. He'd always be too tired for that, actually. Ignoring the team as well as he could, he took another sip of the coffee Tony had poured him. 

Bruce watched the engineer turning his head to the side slightly. The brown eyes were fixated on their teammate, trying to figure something out.

But he wasn't the only one, most of the persons seated at the table were glancing at Clint interestedly. Well, except for maybe Natasha who knew about Clint's problem. The physicist sighed inwardly, oh it was really unfortunate to sit on a table with a person who could read your mind. Which really wasn't nice without asking beforehand, but maybe it could develop a push in the right direction for Tony and Clint?

"Ah there it is again. Birdie, you may have been successful to distract me until now, but you _have_ to tell me who it is." Bruce silently got a hold on Tony's shirt and pulled him back on his chair, from which he had leaned up order to stare at the archer.

"Tony..." he mumbled in warning, he really wouldn't do that to Clint now. Maybe the engineer wasn't aware about the dilemma, but still.

The archer glanced up at Tony, not sure if he was going to blanch or blush. Neither seemed like a good option right now. He glared at Wanda in warning, but she just chuckled quietly and leaned over to murmur something in Vision's ear - well, _great_.

He took another slow sip of his coffee, casting a look around the table, and wasn't that fantastic, the attention was all his. And he wasn't even awake yet, dammit. 

"Who says you know him?" he asked slowly. He didn't really believe it would work, but it'd give him time to think of something to say. Hopefully. 

Ignoring Bruce's attempts to get him to shut up and let the topic go, Tony grinned at his teammate. "Well, even if I don't know _him_ , that is a problem that's easy to solve. Wouldn't it be rude when I met him running around in our floor and wouldn't even know how to arrest him?" 

The engineer smiled smugly, out of the corner of his eye noticing Steve shaking his head minutely. But he was, except for Bruce the only one who wasn't happy with the engineers curiosity. 

Clint actually huffed a small laugh at that. 

"Don't think you'd want to arrest him," he murmured, more into his coffee cup than to anyone else. Still, the rest of the team was apparently equally as curious as Tony now, and what the hell was he supposed to _do_ now?!

"C'mon, Barton," Wilson chimed in now, his chin propped up on his hand and a wide grin on his face. "You can tell us, we promise we won't rat you out to your darling." 

The archer glared at his team mate, now definitely beginning to feel flushed – this was a whole new level of awkward, this was just humiliating. Had it been any other person, he wouldn't have had a problem with telling the rest and probably having a laugh about it, but this was Tony. Tony, who sat across of him with a smug grin and seemed to be enjoying himself thoroughly.

Wanda, too, seemed to be having the time of her life, her eyes shining with mirth as she leaned forward: "Why don't you tell them it's –"

" _Kyle_!" Clint cut her off a little too loudly. "Kyle. Okay? It's Kyle. You've met him. Wonderful guy. Met him in a bar." _Don't know his last name and he thinks I'm called Francis_.

Tony frowned at this revelation, thinking back to the day where he had caught Clint and Kyle. "Okay, wait, didn't you say Kyle was a distraction from you secret little crush? A random one-night-stand?"

The archer tried once more to pretend indifference, while drinking his coffee. "Not that he wasn't a nice guy, not as fantastic as I am, but," Tony stroked his hair back like the diva he sometimes was. "Who could match me?"

Again, Wanda opened her mouth but was immediately silenced by Vision, who eyed him distantly. 

_Yeah, who could match you?,_ Clint thought sarcastically. He glared over at Wanda, thinking _shut up, shut up, shut up_ as intensely as he could manage. She rolled her eyes and looked actually _pitying_. Great. Just what he needed right now. 

The archer was just about to respond something, most likely getting himself deeper into trouble, when Natasha decided to chime in sharply: "That's enough now." She glared around the table, daring anyone to disagree with her. "Clint is going to bring him home someday and you'll meet him, but up until then, it's his own business. After all, he's not the only one who's got a one-sided thing going on here, is he?"

"Nat!" Clint hissed, partly grateful that she had cut the conversation short and partly appalled at her last remark. Tony hadn't been purposefully cruel, he had no idea what he was saying, and her last comment had been meant to be hurtful. 

The engineer felt himself paling, matching the sudden ice-fist that hit him into his stomach. Second thing was, of course, metaphorically speaking. 

Hiding that shock as well as he could, he peeled his attention away from the archer and to Natasha, who was her usual composed self. How could she know? _Did_ she know about him or was she referring to someone else? 

A quick glance around didn't help Tony with that question, the others were still looking curiously and not caught or something like that. Fantastic. 

"Sure... His own business," the engineer finally said lamely, but cut back an apology, no need to make it obvious that he was the one who was referred to. Before Tony stood up to get a new coffee, he quickly shoot Steve a look, but the Captain turned to Sam.

Inwardly the inventor sighed, he was sure that Bruce wouldn't let the topic slip again. Maybe he should distract him with a project? Hastily he tried to think about something, when he felt eyes on his back. 

Clint swallowed nervously and sipped his coffee, trying to maybe vanish into the floor, if that was an option; still, he couldn't help but carefully glance up at Tony's back and then around the table to see if anyone else had caught the implications in Natasha's clipped retort. 

Most of the team were minding their own business, though, with the exception of Steve, who now regarded Natasha with a sort of abashed surprise. Clint was so not going to get involved in that; he was perfectly fine screwing up his own life, thank you very much, Natasha knew how to deal with... stuff. She didn't need his help and if she did, she would come get it.

The other team member who wasn't looking down at her breakfast was Wanda, whose grey eyes were fixed on Tony's back with a sort of fascination on her features. It took the archer a second to figure out where it came from, and when he did, he couldn't help his grimace. _Aw, no_.

As if she had heard him (well, it wasn't impossible), she turned towards him with a look that, again, seemed very nearly compassionate. He mutely shook his head at her and turned back to his coffee. Well, great. 

Tony gave his best to ignore the eyes in his back. He had a really good guess if to whom they'd belong, so he forced himself to guide his thoughts back to the project he wanted to show Bruce. Of course without actually thinking of him, since that would without doubt lead to other, more private topics.

Finally, he finished his coffee and turned around again. "Found something interesting, Maximoff?" the engineer asked a bit more grumpily than he wanted to show, regretting the question immediately. The young woman would happily use that opportunity to get Tony into trouble. 

But once again it was Vision who saved him when the android exchanged glances with his wife.  
Not intending to let that luck slip, the engineer tapped Bruce's shoulder to inform him that he should meet Tony in the workshop after breakfast.

Silently, Clint stared at Tony's retreating back and then the empty doorway as the inventor left the room in something that maybe wasn't an escape, but something close to it. He only snapped out of it when Natasha stepped on his foot and murmured under her breath, "you're being obvious".

Unable to come up with a response for that on the spot, since she was probably right (which didn't mean he liked it), he just huffed quietly and, now that he was awake anyway, grabbed something to eat. He silently glared at Wanda whenever he caught her smug smiles in his direction, but he could still see pity in her eyes, and that possibly annoyed him even more. If anyone was going to feel sorry for him, it was himself – he wasn't bad at that, not at all.

"I'll run with the dog," Clint murmured when he'd eaten up, never mind that he was probably going to feel nauseous when he did it after breakfast instead of before. He'd brought Lucky up to HQ, unwilling to let the neighbours take care of him forever (and possibly because he'd missed the insolent fur ball a little, too), but had mostly kept him in his own rooms when they weren't outside since he wasn't sure how the team was going to react to him. "See ya."

Bruce's eyes rose from his breakfast, surprised. "You've got a dog? In here?"

The physicist had a soft spot for animals, especially dogs. He remembered the stray dog back in Brazil vividly, how he had looked at Bruce as well as how his fur had felt under his hands.

Hastily, he shoved away those memories and concentrated on the present again. That was something he did, because sometimes looking back just made everything seem like a catastrophe, the future could hold hope.

"Can I see it?", Bruce asked eagerly. Meanwhile he wondered where Clint kept it, he might haven't left his room and workshop that often, but dogs made some noise after all. 

The archer raised his eyebrows at Bruce and, more out of reflex than anything else, grinned and drawled: "Oh my, doctor Banner. Very direct, aren't we?"

He chuckled before the scientist had a chance to reply and apologised: "Sorry, couldn't resist. Of course, come along – just, well, be warned, I never actually got him properly trained. I mean, he's friendly enough, he just has no manners and might slobber at you."

Clint leaned against the door frame as he waited for the other man to catch up.

"Ha ha, I don't mind that, I'm sure he is a fantastic dog," Bruce smiled while he put away his used dishes.

The rest of the team slowly redirected their attention on other things than Clint, even if Natasha as well as Wanda kept glancing to them out of their eyes' corners. The physicist wasn't entirely sure how much the psychic knew, but that wasn't his problem at the moment.

Right now, all he wanted to do was to get to know his teammate a bit better and spend a bit time with him and his dog. The archer could really need a bit help from his friends, Natasha shouldn't handle that mess alone.

Well, and Bruce really wanted to meet that dog. 

Clint grinned and pushed away from the door with his hands in his pockets, beginning to walk towards his room with Bruce by his side. 

"I sort of adopted him," he explained. "I fed him once and he got attached to me, apparently, and saved my life – but he got run over in the process, so I thought it'd be fair to return the favour, y'know? So I got him fixed up and he just sorta... stuck around. Not that I'm complaining, it's... nice. I've always liked dogs. Nice to have someone who you can babble at who won't complain."

He shot the scientist a crooked smile and pushed open the door to his room, just to be greeted by an enthusiastically yapping Lucky, who made a great effort to climb up onto his shoulders or whatever it was he was trying to do. Clint sank to his knees and ruffled the dog's fur fondly.

"Yeah, yeah, I only left you for half an hour, you drama queen. C'mon, don't act like I never cuddle you, you just want to get Bruce to pity you." As if he had understood (it did seem to be a thing of his), Lucky turned his attention towards Bruce, tail wagging excitedly as he sniffed at the newcomer and nudged the scientist's legs with his head.

Nearly instantly, the foreign dog had provoked a smile on Bruce's face. Without hesitation the man knelt down onto the floor, too, sitting on his heels to get closer to the dogs eye level.

In a matter of seconds a warm Body jumped against his chest, nearly knocking him over. "Hey, hey, take it easy. Not going away here.. Slow down," the scientist cooed silently while stroking the dogs back gently.

It took a while until Bruce asked: "Does he have a name?"

Smiling fondly, Clint replied: "Well, I usually call him Pizza Dog, but I suppose you could go with Lucky, too. Hey, boy, no licking, do you hear – ewww. Bruce, take him back again." He playfully shoved at Lucky, exaggerating a grimace and wiping at his face where the dog had enthusiastically expressed his love in the form of... well. Slobber. Very slobbery slobber. "Yikes."

Giggling softly, the physicist playfully pulled at the dog's ear. Pizza Dog didn't complain about that, just took that as invitation to rub his head against Bruce's cheek.

It was a really nice moment, the man was eager to save it in his memory and his heart. After he took a deep breath, tasting the slight scent of dog, Bruce turned around to Clint, who was still cleaning his face.

"Well, you're more creative with names than I was. Mine just kept being 'dog'," the physicist told him after a while. He had subtly pressed his forehead against the warm fur, taking in the familiar and the foreign aspects of the situation.

"You had a dog?" Clint asked and stilled in his movements, surprised. He looked up at Bruce and Lucky again, and in that moment, he was pretty sure that someone didn't need to be gay to admit that the image had something utterly adorable, with Bruce kneeling on the floor next to the dog and one arm slung around it as he leaned against Lucky. 

Still, he couldn't help but notice the wistful look in the physicist's eyes, and it gave him the notion that this particular story didn't have a very happy ending. Carefully, he added: "What happened?" 

Bruce kept running his hands over the dog's back, smiling when Lucky laid down after a while. 

"It wasn't really my dog. When I was in Brazil, we somehow ran into each other." The physicist shrugged, watching the dog closing his eyes blissfully. "We kept each other company for a while, was very nice to have someone to talk to, you know?"

Bruce went still, it was only when Lucky raised his head again nudged his hands with it, when he noticed that his movements had stopped. "Sorry, Lucky," he apologised smiling and continued his little task. The dog contently settled back again. "He died. I mean the dog. So... Well..." Swallowing, the physicist glanced to Clint beside him, who didn't look like he was in a hurry, despite his earlier escape.

"Didn't you want to go for a walk? I don't want to be in your way." 

"Yeah, right, walking." The archer saw Lucky's ears twitch, and honestly, he was pretty sure that he understood every single word he was saying sometimes. "C'mon, Luck, let's get you out, hm?" He patted the dog's head and then rose from his sitting position on the floor.

While he fetched a leash for Lucky, more for the walk through the base than anything else, he called over his shoulder: "If you feel up to it, you could come with us, of course. I mean, I don't mind, and I don't think he will, either." 

He had noticed the way that Bruce looked at Lucky – it was hard not to when you weren't blind, after all – and the wistful tone in the scientist's voice when he'd been talking about his own dog was more than enough to tug at anyone's heart strings. The least he could do was offer this. 

Contemplating, Bruce's eyes followed his teammate. He knew that Tony was waiting for him, but on the other hand, he was pretty sure that the engineer would be glad not to talk.

"Um, if you really don't mind... I would be happy to join you two." The physicist gave the dog another smile, when he rose from the floor and quickly shook himself. 

Meanwhile Clint returned with the leash and Lucky eagerly strolled over to his owner. It was such a familiar and warm sight that Bruce was glad he could stay in that company a bit longer. 

The archer clipped the leash to Lucky's collar and gave it a gentle tug as he walked towards the door. 

"Come on, then," he invited with a smile. Bruce was nice to have around, he really did enjoy the physicist's company – even if they had never gotten close before the whole Ultron fiasco, he'd found the man likeable and one of his team mates that were easier to deal with (and yes, he was including Hulk here, he liked the big guy). With Bruce, there was no need to be perfect (like with Steve), no awkward infatuation that he had to chalk over (like with Tony), no guilt (like with Wanda) and no oh-this-is-awkward-you-sound-like-JARVIS-whom-I-really-like-so-how-do-I-deal-with-you (well, guess who that one is). The list could be continued like that.

Nodding, Bruce followed the pair out of the room through the headquarters hallway. The dog obediently walked on the archers right side while wagging its tail happily, kept a calm pace. Maybe the only reason for Clint keeping him at a leash was to not be scolded by SHIELD, assuming that SHIELD knew about the dog in their building.

Knowing the archer it was not unlikely that the agency of spies had no idea. 

After they left the grey building behind them, both men walked in silence for a while. Bruce was content with not talking, he enjoyed these times of being mute, especially after spending time with Tony.

Uncertain the physicist glanced at the archer, who looked like he was in thought himself. Should he talk with him about the mess he was in, or would it make everything even worse? The last he wanted to do was to upset Clint.

As soon as the building was halfway out of sight, Clint unhooked the leash from Lucky's collar and bent down to pick up some random stick, weighed it in his hands and then threw it as far as he could. He watched as the dog ran after it with his tail wagging cheerfully.

Tucking his hands into his pockets against the morning chill, he turned towards Bruce and mentally called up a list of conversation starters. He wasn't good with stuff like this, but he'd give it a try at least. 

"So, how're you settling in, Doc?" he asked carefully. 

A bit surprised, the physicist pried his eyes away from the running dog. Clint looked a bit awkward with his little half smile and pose.

"Um, well... It's good to be back again, Tony managed to let me feel at home instantly," Bruce smiled, thinking back to the glee in the engineers eyes at his arrival. It was true, Tony always managed to chase away all the discomfort in new situations, at least normally he could. "So, very good you can say. But what's with you, you maybe want me to check you over again? We didn't have much time for it."

Clint reflexively raised his hand to his ear to feel along the cut on his ear. 

"I guess it was more disturbing than anything else," he mused, his thoughts going back to kneeling on the floor with the barrel of a gun pressed to the back of his neck while he had no idea what was going on around him, "but if you want another look when we're back, I'm not stopping you. I definitely like you better than the SHIELD medics. Well, ex-SHIELD." He still wasn't really used to that. "Anyway."

Another smile crept up the physicist's face. Words like these showed him how much his teammates liked him by now, and trusted for that matter. Most of the Avengers had a strong dislike concerning medical and tried to avoid after-mission check ups as well as debriefings.

"I'll take a quick look then," Bruce decided before going back to silently watching Lucky who once more retrieved the stick to Clint. "And besides that? You're okay again, right?"

Oh he really shouldn't return to that topic, the physicist was aware that it was really uncomfortable, but he couldn't help it. "I'm sorry about what happened in the kitchen." 

Clint grimaced and quickly averted his eyes to stare after Lucky. 

"Yeah, I'm okay," he said slowly, drawing the sentence out, "and, well. You have nothing to be sorry for, do you? It's, well." He felt himself smiling despite himself, a slightly bitter edge to it. "It's very Tony, I suppose. And, well..." _Three 'well's in three sentences, that's gotta be some sort of record. Stop stammering._ "Wanda is just a kid, really, she was having fun. Can't blame her. What can you do, really." He knew he was stammering and forced himself to shut up before he really started babbling, because that would just be awkward. More awkward. Whatever.

Sighing, Bruce slumped a bit. The archers misery was clearly noticeable for him in those uncertain words of his.

"I'm sorry to bring it up again, I know you don't want to talk about it. But if that changes you can always come to me." Hastily the physicist thought about how to make it easier for his friend, since he really wanted to help him somehow. "If you don't like, you don't have to start about it, just give me a sign." 

Clint next to him was still pretending to be busy keeping an eye on the dog, so Bruce swallowed nervously. He really hoped he didn't destroy the easy friendship between them. 

"A- and I think I know which person it is. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, not even him. Not as long as you don't want to." 

Clint's head whipped around in alarm, fast enough that he thought he might have sprained something. 

"How do –" He cut himself off, biting his tongue, and heaved a sigh. Bruce knew Tony probably better than anyone else did, except maybe for Rhodey, and if anyone had an idea it would be him. "I swear, we'll have the whole team knowing before he does. Am I that goddamn obvious?" He knelt down to take the stick from Lucky, patting his head and murmuring praise distractedly before he tossed it over the field again.

For a second Bruce watched Lucky running to fetch the stick before he turned around to the archer. 

Clint was looking odd, he would have called it sad, but it wasn't fitting, not completely. Maybe desperate, maybe just exhausted. Oh, Bruce could understand Natasha's frustration about the whole situation way too much.

"No, you're not," the physicist assured Clint, trying helplessly not to make things harder. "It's just we know each other very well by now, and we're good with finding out secrets. But we tend to be blind in our own business, aren't we?"

He tried a smile, but it didn't work out very well. 

The archer ducked his head, his smile turning self-depreciating. 

"S'pose so," he murmured, recalling his first few weeks in absolute denial. It had been okay before, a little infatuation that should have passed after a while, but what with the whole incident with Tony's abduction and the following flight to Malibu, the night with Kyle in his flat and the following weeks, it had blossomed into something that he didn't think he'd get rid of that easily again. 

Of course, it would pass. It _had_ to. What was he supposed to do if it didn't?! He was at a complete loss with the whole thing, yet he somehow managed to get tangled in it more with everything he did.

"God, this is complicated," he groaned in frustration, staring up at the sky. "Why does everything have to be complicated?" 

This time it was a real smile that tugged at Bruce's mouth, how often had he himself asked this particular question?

"I think there is nothing more complicated than a person, no scientific secret is more cryptic than a human. And this increases just the more people you add to a situation." Now it was the physicists turn to blush a bit. "I'm sorry, what I've meant is, relationships, all kind of them are changing so many things it only can get complicated."

Before Clint could throw him a questioning glance Bruce continued: "But you don't have to deal with everything alone, I'm sure Natasha would be glad to help you, same with me. At the moment we may don't know what to do, but together we'll find an answer."

Hesitantly the man patted his teammates shoulder, an attempt to comfort him. 

Clint laughed to himself quietly.

"You sure make that sound poetic," he chuckled. "But I guess... easy would be boring, huh?" It didn't sound half as cheerful as it had been intended and he grimaced briefly before he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and forced himself to stand up straighter, even though he never took his hands from his pockets. 

Looking over at the scientist, he managed an actual smile this time. "I'll get over it, don't worry. Still... thanks. I think."

The physicist nodded slowly, recognising a dismissal when he saw it. So he didn't question Clint's words aloud but for himself. _Getting over it_ , Bruce wondered, he was really not sure if the feelings the archer had for Tony would be something that would just vanish after some time. But who was he to say something about that?

So the two men returned to their precious silence, while Clint threw the stick for a last time. Bruce glanced at the archer, but his posture didn't give away anything. Over their heads it had become darker, clouds had formed to big grey monstrous beings, a clear sign for heavy rain, maybe even more. 

Clint followed Bruce's glance upwards and made a face. 

"Alright, how do you feel about going back in?" he asked. "That really doesn't look too cosy anymore." As if to underline his words, a gust of wind made him shudder and he rubbed his arms – the t-shirt hadn't been his best idea, it was barely spring after all. 

He called out over the field for Lucky and turned on the spot, back towards the mansion. "Let's get back." 

Bruce agreed silently and followed the archer back to the headquarters, hearing lucks steps behind him. 

"So what's you plan for today?" the physicist asked evenly, trying to reach more comfortable topics before parting ways again. "I think I should visit Tony in the workshop, he expected me for a while, after all." Smiling, Bruce patted the dog when he appeared next to him, enjoying once more the warm fur under his fingertips.

"I'll be... going to shoot stuff, probably." He shrugged and absently scratched Lucky between the ears while they were walking. "Gonna find something to do. If there's no alarm... well, I've got a book to finish, laying around somewhere, and I am pretty sure that I've got some seasons of Doctor Who laying around somewhere, just in case I feel like crying like a little girl. There's always _something_ to do, I suppose."

Bruce couldn't resist to chuckle a bit. "To be honest, never expected you to be a fan of Doctor Who," he admitted, shaking his head slightly. "Well, in that case I'll leave you to the horror of Doomsday and visit my own manic mad-man." 

After a last ruffle for Lucky and a warm smile for his owner, the doctor walked down to the workshop, his thoughts still lingering at his teammate and the dog. 


	15. Chapter 15

With the whole team assembled in the building, even sans Thor, it never really got quiet. The former warehouse complex wasn't as big as the Stark Tower or later on Avengers Tower had been, so the team members were bound to run into one another more frequently than before, and Clint was caught more than once when he slipped from Tony's rooms in the evenings or, sometimes, in the wee hours of the morning.

He never stayed until Tony woke up since he knew for a fact that he got clingy and ridiculously affectionate when he was tired, and that was definitely not included in his deal with the inventor. It was bad enough that he'd been making a habit of kissing Tony goodbye when he left in the mornings, because that was just every bad movie cliché ever. He was just glad that the engineer wouldn't wake up from anything less than a nuclear alarm once he was fast asleep.

Usually, when he was awake too early or just didn't know what to do with himself, he went on long runs with Lucky, sometimes with Bruce for company, or, like this morning, used the shooting range to clear his head of anything Tony-related for a while. Not that he didn't like thinking about the inventor, but after all, that was exactly where his problem was; he liked it _far_ too much.

After the unnerving time of the fight against Tony's kidnappers, living in the headquarters had gone a lot more relaxing again. 

The engineer enjoyed it to work, undisturbed, on his projects, without being bothered by fleeing experiments or misunderstood people who thought the solution for their problems would be to try to conquer the world. (Or New York).

Moreover, that slowly was getting boring. 

Over the course of the last weeks, Bruce had become a constant presence in the workshop again. The men were once more the team they'd been before the physicist had left.

Every thing would have been perfect, if it weren't for the thing with Steve. More than once Tony had caught himself _coincidentally_ hanging around in the same place as the captain. He couldn't help it, even if the engineer didn't want it, in the end he gave in the urge to be close to Steve. And every time it ended weirdly unsatisfying in more than one sense. Since Tony's mistake with the kiss, the captain had started to keep distance to him, talking less with him than before. And that hurt.

Consequently, the engineer spent more time with Clint. And the archer didn't appear to have too much problems with that. The only one who scolded him for his actions openly was, unsurprisingly, Bruce. At this very moment he was once more shaking his head upon the fact, that Tony just returned from the archer's room again. 

While Clint and Tony spent their mornings, respectively, at the shooting range and down in the lab, two other occupants of the base were working on a late breakfast in the kitchen. Well, they tried, anyway.

"Look," Wanda chided, half-bent over her husband's shoulder to reach the stove as well as her smaller size allowed, "I know that the receipt tells you to do it like this, but I promise it'll taste better if you put more salt in it. Trust me. _I'm_ the one who's going to eat this later, remember?"

Vision sent her a thoughtful look. In moments like these, Wanda seemed so carefree and _young_ , he had to just take that sight in. Since they'd first met each other outside of the battle of Sokovia, these happier times had increased and Vision was glad to see the young woman lighten up again.

Surely both of them weren't the best persons for a relationship, simply because they'd never had anything like it before, but for him, times like this, cooking together was totally worth the struggle. 

"Sure, love," the Vision simply said and passed the salt to his wife.

She snickered triumphantly and applied a generous measure of salt onto the dish that was sizzling in the pan. 

Then, she leaned back against the counter next to Vision, crossing her arms in front of her chest, and asked nonchalantly: "Do you reckon we'll have another bickering couple in here soon?" She suppressed a grin at her own choice of vocabulary; her English had improved a lot since she had joined the team, and sometimes she surprised herself with it. 

Sighing, the Vision shook his head and kept standing in front of the kitchen island. Different than other people, he wasn't the kind of "person" who stood around casually, he just couldn't stop acting like – he hesitated when the comparison dawned on his mind – a butler would have. Maybe it was the remains of JARVIS programme or his nature as an android, he didn't really mind that anyways. But sometimes, his unusual behaviour got him weird looks from others; others, but not from Wanda. Perhaps that had been the reason why he felt that easy around her. Sure, she sometimes joked about him being different, but it was always light and fond, something the woman had to rediscover after her twin brother's death. Vision assumed she had never cared for someone else than her brother that much, and of course he felt honoured.

"I think that isn't really likely." He forced himself to look at er scoldingly. "But it could help if you would stop making things more complicated. And don't pretend that you have been innocent." 

She rolled her eyes with a huff.

"I have seen his mind," she replied without mentioning a name; they both knew whom she meant. "He won't ever tell him by himself, he would never believe he's worth it. He doesn't believe he can live up to Stark's standards, because he is a circus kid and that man is a genius." Wanda felt herself reflexively reaching out with her mind, trying to find Clint's, but she held herself back before she could come in contact with him.

She was still unsure about how she felt about him. Yes, sure, he was the main reason she was here, with these people, in this place, with this man by her side, and she couldn't be more grateful for that. But he was also the man whom Pietro had thrown himself into the way of a rain of bullets for, and while that wasn't Clint's fault and she sometimes had a bad conscience about it, she couldn't keep herself from holding some small, bitter sort of grudge that still hadn't gone completely. 

When you watched Wanda in moments when she was alone or around people she felt comfortable, you could easily see when she let herself go and was herself. Right now, it didn't take much for the Vision to guess that the woman thought about her place in the team as well as about Pietro.

"I know that you're right, love, but it isn't at us to show them the reality." Slowly, the Vision blinked before he repositioned himself in front of Wanda. "Mr. Stark may doesn't appear so, but he is self-conscious, too. You know that." 

She sighed irritatedly and responded: "He fails to see what is right in front of him. How do you know he won't act differently if he knows? Stark isn't..." She hesitated before uttering the sentence. "He is never _purposefully_ cruel. But sometimes he doesn't see that he is."

Somehow, in some twisted sense, that reminded her of what she had learned about him since meeting him; his weapons being dealt right under his nose without him taking notice; this was just the same, if on a much smaller scale. He was looking right over Clint to catch a glimpse of his Captain at all times and the archer did nothing to prevent himself from being overlooked. 

"Indeed," Vision nodded, slightly surprised at Wanda's interest in Clint's and Tony's love life. Then he took his wife's hand in his, stroked the slender fingers gently. After a quick glance to the stove he turned to Wanda.

"But maybe you're right, Mr. Stark could maybe use a bit of a relationship after what happened with Miss Potts," he spoke slowly. 

The young woman interlaced their hands carefully and smiled up to him. She was beautiful like this. 

"Maybe we could try to help them a bit." Wanda now downright grinned and nodded eagerly, so vision couldn't help but share her enthusiasm, wherever it came from. 

"But before we start making plans, we could finish cooking?", he gestured to the stove where the food was still cooking silently. "And I'm sure we should talk to the others first, not that our actions contradict the efforts of Mr. Banner and miss Romanov."

Wanda chuckled excitedly and rubbed her hands together.

"They don't stand a chance," she stated happily. "Sooner or later, we're going to have the whole team behind us. They'll have to sort themselves out at some point." 

Vision shook his head at the thought of the Avengers joining forces trying to get Tony and Clint together. "Well, I'm sure that's going to be a very... overwhelming thing.", he finally stated. 

For no second he doubted that this would be not only chaotic but partly very awkward for the two men. And the biggest problem still remained: feelings couldn't be forced to develop. So how should they manage to make the engineer fall in love since he obviously was only interested in Steve? 

Wanda pointedly raised an eyebrow at him, knowing where his thoughts had drifted to. She didn't have such doubts about that and just turned around to return to their cooking, humming softly under her breath.

Before they even got to take the dish off the stove, though, the alarm suddenly went off and the couple exchanged a glance before Wanda murmured a Russian profanity and turned off the heat.  
"We're not done here," she murmured, grabbing a toast on her way out so she had _something_ in her stomach as they hurried towards where the team gathered.

About four hours later, the Avengers found themselves in a familiar, run-down Shawarma place, with their group quite a lot bigger than the last time they had been here.

Clint, as one of the team members who had walked away mostly unscathed by the giant insects they had faced (which was seriously so cliché, also, _yikes_ ) was helping the wide-eyed waiter to carry the plates to their table, ignoring the shards of glass and the debris on the floor. This restaurant seemed to draw villains to itself like moths to a flame (god, no, he was thinking in insect metaphors); he felt sort of sorry for the owners, really. 

The food was still great, though. 

He set the plates down, Tony's and his own last, and flopped into the empty chair next to the inventor. Picking up a French fry from his own plate, he remarked with a glance to the side fake casualness: "You know, it _is_ sort of disturbing when you fly into collapsing buildings like that with your comms off."

Tony had gotten away with no bigger injuries as well, but he was holding his left arm stiffly and winced when he thought nobody was looking. Most of the others were too busy with their own issues anyway, so no-one seemed to take notice. 

Tony raised his gaze from his food to the archer beside him and shoot him a thoughtful look. It wasn't the first time that Clint was saying something like this, the engineer had noticed a few times already that his teammate had apparently the urge to make sure no one was taking unnecessary risks. Well as long as it wasn't himself, _he_ kept jumping from rooftops without as much as a second thought, or Natasha, who just got sarcastic lines between shots. (Even if Tony had to admit that there always was leaking truthful concern through his jokes.)

But of course, Clint wasn't the only one who had scolded him for his risky behaviour today. Steve had yelled, shocked, and after they'd finished eliminating those disgusting creatures, Cap had told him with barely restrained anger that he wasn't allowed to rush off like that. Somehow, it hadn't been the same though, in those lines something had missed that was evident in the archer's words.

That's why Tony wasn't that annoyed and actually answered without his typical eye-roll. "Yeah, sorry. Next time I'll remember." Then he smiled and dug into his food, pointedly shoving Bruce's plate closer to the physicist, who kept looking at Tony.

"Eat up, big guy, don't want you to collapse from being awesome. That's my job, 'kay?" 

Clint snorted and took a sip of his drink to conceal his grin. 

"Well, as long as you can still crack jokes, I suppose you're fine," he murmured good-naturedly, a little surprised at the lack of sarcasm in Tony's response. Usually, the inventor would brush his teammates' concern off almost scornfully, always insisting that there was something better to worry about than him. 

Clint leaned back in his chair with his plate in his lap (he had just saved New York, he was allowed a little show of bad manners) so he could have an eye on the whole team and didn't look too awkward when he glanced over at Tony, trying to assess his injuries without openly asking. Yes, it _was_ usually Bruce's job, and he did it very well, especially considering his unusual patients, but checking couldn't hurt, right?

While eating Tony busied himself with planning the repairs on his suit. One of those insects had tackled him when he had been distracted by another one, so he had crashed into a building. 

That had happened with a force that would have easily killed him without his armour, and even with it, his arm was slightly injured. 

That was something he would deal with later, for now, he contemplated whether it was useful to increase the metals stability by making a thicker layer in the more vulnerable parts. But Tony quickly decided against that, it would restrain his movability too much for his taste.

Time flew by in this fashion and the engineer kept his team tuned out until he had finished of his plate and looked around. 

By now, Clint had his head propped up on his hand and was blinking sleepily. It was barely afternoon yet, but the hours of concentrating, shooting and jumping off buildings had been draining and he was just about ready for a nap, or maybe he was going to curl up with a movie or Doctor Who or something. He'd probably fall asleep over that anyway when he was tired enough.

Around him, the team had begun to finish up as well. Everybody was starting to get up and wrap up the leftovers or what little there was of them, and the archer followed suit. Five minutes later, they were heading towards Avengers Tower in the Quinjet with Natasha in the pilot's seat, because they had all mutually agreed that they could still return to HQ the next day. The Tower was mostly restored anyway and the living areas were fully intact again, so they didn't need to make their way back to the HQ yet; the 'jet needed refuelling anyway.

The silence kept on during the short flight to the former Avengers Tower. It had been a while since Tony had been there himself, but that didn't mean that he had to worry about the state the building was in. He paid people to look after the Tower for that exact purpose, since he didn't have the intention to return there anytime soon. Maybe it would be weird to be here again with the team.

Tony let his gaze wander over the people who had somehow become his family. Mostly, they had slumped in the seats, minding their own business, Bruce even looked like he had fallen asleep against the jet's wall.

Sighing the engineer leaned back and directed his eyes to Steve. The captain absently twirled his shield in his lap, and only met his gaze for a second. Tony shrugged and looked away, too, unsure what to do with himself. Maybe he should go to his old workshop and revive it again as second possibility when there was an emergency. 

But Tony would have to do it alone, since Bruce would need to rest after the transformation. It would be less fun, but there was nothing to do against that. 

Natasha brought the Quinjet down gently and while Clint made his way to the cockpit to check on her – because even after all these years, she was still good at hiding her injuries and didn't easily let her guard down yet, not around the new members whom she still had to get used to – the rest of the team filed out of the aircraft.

Wanda and Vision went side-by-side and, with the archer unaware of them, Wanda leaned up to murmur in her husband's ear: "I think I might have an idea, let me try something. Go ahead, I'll join you later." 

With those words, she sped up her pace until she was level with Tony and innocently started up a conversation: "Are you alright?"

Startled, the engineer turned around to face Wanda. Immediately, he frowned and subtly brought some space between them. Not that it would be of any use against her powers, but it made him feel a bit better. 

"Yeah, just a scratch. Nothing bad," he murmured defensively, unsure what she was aiming for. Wanda walked beside him, relaxed, looking only a bit ruffled after the battle, but without more than a few bruises. The others were in a few metres' distance, not really hurrying to get anywhere.

"I see. That's good, then." 

Wanda looked away from Tony, trying not to be hurt by his obvious flinch; it was normal, people needed a while to get used to her powers. They hadn't made positive first contact, after all. 

Instead of Tony, she now glanced at Steve's back. The Captain was walking ahead of his team, always the leader, and his posture was as upright and proud as ever, but she could feel his fatigue when she carefully probed at his mind. Content with how everything had turned out, but tired. 

She turned away from the soldier and looked up at Tony again, who was looking the same way she had, his eyes on the back of Steve's head. For a few seconds, she contemplated how to go about what she had wanted to do, but she honestly couldn't find a smooth way to start up a talk like that. 

Instead of dancing awkwardly around the topic, she bluntly stated: "Vision is not the first person I loved, you know." 

"Mhm," Tony murmured absently, eyes following the captain's movements, before his brain caught up with the conversation again. 

"Wait, what?" Abruptly his gaze snapped back to his new teammate, who stared back at him expectantly. "What did you just say?"

And more importantly, hadn't they been talking about injuries a minute ago? Had he missed a part of the conversation? It wouldn't be the first time that happened, his mind tend to be concentrating on other things while he was talking to other people. 

"Back in Sokovia," she continued, undeterred, now keeping her eyes forward on Steve. "Before Hydra. Before all of this. I was fourteen, I believe, and Pietro was having a phase. We got along, we always did, but in front of his friends, he would act distant and superior because apparently, being close to his sister wasn't cool. I've been told that all boys have that at some point or the other."

She took a deep breath of the cool air before they entered the Tower with its artificial, air-conditioned corridors. "When we were at home, he told me of his _adventures_ with his friends and I would pretend not to care, of course, but I was absolutely fascinated by what the boys did that I wasn't allowed to. There was one boy in particular, Fyodor, whom I hadn't met, but he always told the best stories about him. He was brave and funny and probably good-looking, too, and he was all that Pietro talked about, because he looked up to him so much, I found myself doing the same."

She glanced over at Tony briefly, wondering whether he was already beginning to see parallels. While the rest of the team crowded into the elevator, she gently nudged him towards the staircase. This was not a story she would tell to all of them, that wasn't the point of it.

"When I was sixteen, Pietro had gotten over the fact that I was a girl, and he took me with him to one of the meetings with the boys that he always made such a fuss about, and I met Fyodor for the first time. But I didn't, really; I'd been hearing stories about him for almost two years now, I knew everything about him that Pietro knew, and I was absolutely in love with him, I was sure of that. I loved the stories about him, so I'd have to love him, too, right? And my brother adored him so much, he could only be perfect."

Wanda heaved a sigh, but she was smiling; by now, she'd learned to look back at these memories with fondness. Talking about her brother still hurt, it would never stop, she knew that; with time, the pain had become a dull ache that was ever-present, but didn't keep her from seeing the good things anymore. 

"I wanted to impress him. I didn't want to be the girl of the group, I wanted him to see what I felt for him – what I thought I felt for him – and it never occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, I had heard so much about him from Pietro, and had soaked up all of that adoration that he had, that it wasn't my own feelings anymore that I projected on him, but my brother's way of looking up at him which I clung to, because what else did I have from Pietro at that time? He was always on about Fyodor, Fyodor, Fyodor."

She shrugged. "We never did get together in the end. I kissed him, once, but nothing came of that. He did keep trying to charm Pietro, though." She grinned with her arms folded across her chest. "Instead, I ended up with Kasi. Well, Kasimir. I'd never really taken notice of him before, not in that way, but he was always there and I needed a push to realise that."

They came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs and Wanda turned to look at Tony with a brilliant smile on her lips. "And that was the story of the first person I really came to love. I just felt like sharing."

At first, Tony had been confused, Wanda wasn't known for being keen on sharing memories or thoughts, especially not with him. But soon, he felt himself drawn into the story of the young girl she had been. In front in his eyes he could clearly see the siblings sitting together, Pietro animatedly telling about his day with the boys. Somehow he could picture that scene very well, the boy sitting in an armchair in the dimly lit room during sun set, looking down at the little sister. Wanda on the other hand, arms slung around her knees, stared up to Pietro in wonder, eager to hear the stories of things she thought she would never experience.

Hastily he blinked back to reality and was met by his teammate's smile. Another thing he was unused to when he was alone with Wanda.

But at the moment, Tony didn't pay much attention to that, he got distracted by a weird feeling in his stomach that only grew when he went back to the image of Wanda's story. A bit confused, he smiled back and raised his hands as a goodbye, murmuring something like "thanks" and "see you later". Despite his words, the engineer stayed at this spot for a few long moments, composing and reorienting himself. He was near the workshop but somehow he wasn't in the mood to spent hours tinkering alone down there, when not even Bruce was there to keep him company.

In the end Tony headed towards the elevator to take him to one on the other old Avengers floors to search for someone who would accept him in their space right now. 

Clint, who was sprawled out on his bed in sweatpants and a tee with an old episode of Doctor Who playing on the large screen on the opposite wall, almost missed the knock on his door the first time. Other than in HQ, the Tower had real apartments with the entrance leading into the living room, from which you could access the other rooms.

Uncertain if he had maybe just imagined the sound, he got up and padded over towards the door on bare feet. 

He pulled it open and leaned against the door frame, his eyebrows rising in surprise. 

"Hey there," he greeted, waving a hand half-heartedly as he smiled at Tony. "What can I do for you?" 

The engineer shrugged minutely, pressing himself through the door frame into Clint's quarters. When he turned around, his teammate had just closed the door and reached for the hem of his shirt.

It took Tony until Clint started to pull up the fabric until he realised that there had been a misunderstanding. He raised an eyebrow: "Hey, calm down, buddy, relax, I'm not just keeping you around for sex, ya now?" 

The man seemed confused when he let his shirt back down again and slowly walked into the room again. "You were watching Doctor Who?" A little awkwardly, Tony gestured to the paused film on the monitor. 

Clint tried to ignore the heat flaring up in his cheeks as he nodded. Yeah, that had probably been a little presumptive – but that was what it usually came down to when they met up after missions. Releasing tension, riding out the high of the adrenaline and relief before they collapsed with the following exhaustion. There wasn't much else they met up for, really.

"New Who," he clarified. "Tennant's first episodes." He fussed with a scratch on his arm for a moment before he gestured towards the bedroom. "You... feel like joining in? I only just started. Got a packet of crisps here somewhere and..." His gaze briefly flickered towards Tony's arm. "...painkillers. Only if you don't tell Bruce, though. Otherwise, I lied and don't have any." 

That pulled a bright smile from the engineer. "God, I love you, Barton, did I tell you that?"  
Stretching a bit, Tony followed into the bedroom, throwing himself on the bed, inspecting the screen. "New Earth?" he asked casually while Clint emerged from the bathroom an passed a bottle of painkillers. 

The archer suppressed a wince at Tony's words and smiled bitterly when the inventor's back was turned. _Aw, Tony, no._

Determinedly, he refused to get into any sort of sappy mood right now. He had a guest to tend to.  
Carefully, he set a glass of water down on the night stand and flopped down on the bed next to Tony. 

"Alright, JARVIS- ah, no, right." Clint gave a lopsided smile as he reached for the remote. "I get so spoiled living with you, I keep talking to my coffee machine at home, too, and expect it to react." 

Tony chuckled and got more comfortable between the cushions and opened one of the bags of crisps. "I could give you an upgrade," he joked. "No, seriously, would be happy to give you some sensible equipment. I've got some ideas..."

Next to him Clint shifted a bit and pressed on play. With one hand the engineer grabbed a pill and downed it with half of the water. 

Tony wondered if that was the first time he was that close to Clint without sexual intention. He wasn't sure what to think about that. 

The archer fluffed up a pillow and leaned back, glancing over at Tony and catching the inventor doing the same.

 _Neither a giggling teenager nor a blushing virgin_ , he reminded himself and looked back towards the screen while he reached into the bag of crisps.

Soon both men were with their minds in the episode, watching Rose and the Doctor entering the disinfection showers. "Seriously, what is it with Tennant's hair? I mean, _how_ does he do it that it's always perfect?" Tony sulked while stroking his own back. "It's always that fluffy... That's probably the most alien thing about him!"

Pouting, the engineer munched a handful crisps and stared at the screen.

Clint snickered quietly and, without thinking, reached over to ruffle Tony's hair. 

"Awww, somebody's jealous," he teased with a broad grin. "Don't worry, you've got great hair, too." He snatched his hand back as soon as he became aware of what he was doing, but the smile stayed firmly in place.

Now smiling again, Tony shook his head slightly. "Oh, I would hope so! I really can't stand someone having greater hair than me, but since you're approving, I suppose I'm good." They fell into silence again while following the events of the episode.

Eventually, the engineer smirked and admitted quietly: "You know, when I watched that episode for the first time, I was annoyed by the tenth. Nine was too awesome to get replaced so easily. But in the end I got used to the skinny one, too."

" _The skinny one_?" Clint repeated incredulously, shifting around to face Tony. "What's that supposed to mean, _the skinny one_? Why is everyone always on about that? I mean, come on!"

Jabbing a finger in Tony's direction, he stated firmly: "Tennant was, is and always will be the best Doctor of them all. No way of beating that." 

Tony raised his eyebrow and turned to the archer. "Good? Yes, of course, but _the_ best? No, I'm sorry but the ninth was the best! I mean, he's got style, too!" For a second the engineer tried to underline his opinion with some of his usual gestures, but noticed he was too close to Clint.

"Just look at his leather jacket, how do you want to compete with that? And he's got fantastic humour!"

On-screen, Rose was at the moment busy talking to "the last pure human" but neither man was paying attention to the woman right now.

"And Nine isn't just the carefree happy guy, you see him suffer from his experiences in the war, slowly getting better. Please don't tell me you didn't think he's great!" 

"Don't get me wrong, he is great," Clint agreed, "or, to use his own words, fantastic, but Ten had that too, remember? I'm not denying the Doctor's traumatic past, no way, but you did see the End of Time, right? Tennant does these darker shades just as well."

He paused and took a breath just as onscreen-Tennant mused appreciatively _"so many parts, and hardly used!"_. Pointing his finger at the TV, Clint added: "Plus, he's got the coat. Gotta give him that."

"Yeah the coat is nice and stuff... But the leather jacket is a whole different level!"

Tony groaned when the archer opened his mouth again, most likely to defend his position. "Okay, okay," hastily the engineer raised his hands in mock resignation, "let's drop that, they're both awesome?"

For some reason he didn't want to argue with his teammate, he just wanted to relax a bit. Clint nodded hesitantly, obvious biting back a response.

"Well, Nine or Ten, that isn't the question actually." In the end Tony just couldn't shut up, but that was nothing new. "Jack is the best character anyways."

Clint beamed widely, a bout of laugh escaping him as he agreed: "Hell yeah. S'pose we can't beat that. He's got the dramatic past _and_ the greatcoat _and_ the looks. Let's not get started on the sass."  
He rolled back onto the pillow, raising a hand. "Let's call a truce, shall we? I think they're about to meet the old Cassandra, that scene was adorable."

Satisfied with how that had turned out, Tony returned into his former position again, glad that the pain in his arm has dulled to an acceptable level.

The next hour passed in companionable silence, just interrupted by a stray remark every now and then. It was when they were halfway through the third episode that Tony noticed that his thoughts had drifted away from the episode plot. Instead he found himself remembering his weird talk with Wanda from earlier. 

He wasn't sure, but could it be that it was actually the first time they'd talked to each other in a more or less private setting? And then the closed-up woman had giving him insight to such a personal memory. There must have been a meaning behind this, but Tony just couldn't understand what it was.

But beside that, after hearing about the younger Wanda's self, the girl she had been before her life had gone to hell, somehow touched him inside. How well could he relate to have someone to look up to as a kid? Well, who hadn't had an unreachable idol somewhere in his life?

A little bitter smile stole itself on the engineer's lips and he didn't bother to hold it back. When he had been young, he had totally fallen for Captain America. A lot of people, boys and girls as well as women and men had had a crush on that first superhero, but with him, it had always been different. Howard had made sure to tell his son every detail about the handsome and flawless Steve Rogers. How could anyone _not_ adore him?

Tony nearly jumped when he felt a sudden weight on his shoulder. Confused, he looked down in the now only dimly lit bedroom, seeing an archer who had apparently fallen asleep from exhaustion. It was somehow cute how Clint had slumped against him, mouth slightly hanging open, brows furrowed a bit even in sleep.

Only for a moment Tony contemplated to shove his teammate away, instead he grabbed the remote and stopped the video. He couldn't deny that it was somehow nice to feel the solid warmth next to him, without the force to have sex.

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy sex, or that the encounters with Clint to resolve unwanted tension weren't satisfying, but this different physical comfort was really nice, too. Maybe something Tony needed. 

So the philanthropist decided to act egoistic for now, and lay down properly on the bed, his body touching Clint's.

After a few minutes of dozing, but never really falling asleep (at least on Tony's part, Clint was out like a light despite the late afternoon sun still illuminating part of the room), there was a sound from outside the bedroom, a door closing, and barely audible footsteps.

"Clint?" Natasha called out as she approached the bedroom, then pushed the door open without stopping. "Clint, are you – ah." 

She immediately lowered her voice and stared down at the two men in the bed, Clint leaning against Tony's side and the inventor with the remote in his hand and the bag of crisps forgotten on the mattress. "Is he alright?" she asked after a beat of silence, after noting that the two didn't look dishevelled in the way she would have been expecting, plus they were still fully dressed. This looked conspicuously like _cuddling_ ; she was really not sure what to think of that just yet, so she simply regarded Tony with her eyebrows arched as she waited for his response.

If the engineer hadn't heard the nearly inaudible footsteps in direction of Clint's bedroom, he would most possible have flinched away in surprise. But now he was warned that someone, most likely Natasha, was visiting, who else besides her and Vision would dare to just come into Clint's private rooms, and was able to keep calm. After all, he wasn't doing anything bad, no need to feel ashamed. His teammate only slept against him, that wasn't uncommon, that happened other people often enough, so there was no reason to blush. Except that Tony did anyway.

Now, he was confronted with Natasha Romanovs piercing glance, and he just wanted to get away from it. "Yeah he is. Just tired, nodded off a few minutes ago," he informed silently, awkwardly staring up to the woman.

Natasha bit back a comment about how Clint didn't just nod off on anyone's shoulder like that. No need for Tony to know about that. 

Also, they did look sort of adorable. 

"I see," she nodded and quietly stepped into the room. She approached the bed and put a knee on the mattress as she bent over Tony to reach for Clint. 

Carefully, she pried the hearing aids from his ears as she explained: "He gets all cranky when he leaves them in for sleeping." 

Clint murmured something unintelligible and clutched at the inventor's shirt with a hand when Natasha straightened up again, smiling an unusually soft smile, almost pitying, down at the archer. 

Just nodding Tony took the hearing aids from Natasha and stored them on the bedside table for later. 

Even when he gave his best not to let it show, but he was a bit uncomfortable with the sleeping Clint on him when the woman kept staring at them. In his sleep the archer buried his face a bit deeper into Tony's shirt, obviously completely unconcerned with the fact that he wasn't alone. 

A bit helpless, the engineer met Natasha's eyes again and asked: "What should I do now? Do you want to take over or something?" Even if the two agents weren't romantically involved, they knew each other long and trusted each other, Tony was sure Clint would be more comfortable to sleep on his good friend than on him.

"Oh, but he looks content, don't you think?" Natasha asked, now with a trace of amusement in her voice. She fondly glanced down at Clint, who was still unconsciously holding on to Tony as though might leave if he didn't. Well, it did seem like he was about to.

Straightening up a little, she added, more seriously: "If you have somewhere to be or anything, I'll take over, of course. Otherwise, I'll be off again, I just wanted to check on him."

A bit dumbfounded, Tony shook his head no. He had nowhere to go, nothing to do, that was why he had come to Clint in the first place, hadn't he?

And Natasha was right, the archer slept peacefully and the engineer knew how precious that was in their job, so he didn't have the heart to leave and most likely disturb his rest.

"Okay then, I'll keep him company a while?", Tony offered more a question to find out if the woman was just joking. But apparently that wasn't the case.

Natasha smiled at him, uncharacteristically broadly, and took a step back from the bed.  
"Lovely," she commented, and it actually sounded genuine, if a little bemused. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it." Nodding to herself, she retreated another step and raised a hand in a small wave. "Goodnight, then. Or afternoon. But from what I've heard, having a sleep rhythm is overrated anyway."

"G'night..", Tony mumbled an watched the bedroom's door close. Only seconds later the footsteps went more silent and the apartments door opened and closed audibly. 

Then, the men were alone again. 

"Um well... If you wake up and are pissed about this... It was all Romanovs fault, got it?" Talking to himself helped to ease the weirdness of the situation enough to revive his curiosity. Slowly, as to not startle Clint awake, the engineer slung his arm around his teammates back, securing his position against his chest. When that had worked without problems, he allowed himself to take a closer look at the archer.

Natasha had been right, sleeping Clint was a bit cute, he had to admit. His face was scrunched up, trustingly pressed against the fabric of Tony's shirt. The parted lips the engineer had kissed so often in the last weeks seemed soft and inviting.

He interrupted his thoughts to scold himself: he hadn't come today to have sex, so he should restrain those thoughts and let Clint sleep.

Instead Tony raised his other hand to stroke the blond hair back, like it had been done vice versa shortly before. That action was weird, too, since usually it was part of their sexual meetings and not their normal interactions. Tony wasn't sure if he overstepped boundaries here, or if he tried to get laid today. Because this was a clear sign for that, wasn't it? Normally, he wouldn't do that.

It was confusing, at the moment everything seemed to be connected to feelings and relationships, Tony couldn't think straight anymore.

In the end, the engineer did what he always did when he felt uncertain. "Fuck it, I do what I want.", Tony grumbled and placed his hand softly against Clint's cheek. When the man didn't squirm or jump awake in alarm (something that could totally happen with the Avengers and especially agents), he released the breath he had been holding.

The archer's lips were really as soft as they looked like. At that moment, Tony regretted to never explore them with care and instead always rushing to more intimate activities.

He smiled and let go of the other's face, leaning back into the cushions. Yeah, he could do that. Because why not? It wasn't bad, actually it was pretty comfortable.


	16. Chapter 16

Waking up was a slow, hesitant process. Clint felt warm and comfortable, there were no alarms blaring – no, wait, he didn't hear anything, so he'd apparently remembered to take his hearing aids out before going to sleep.

Still, he could feel the slow, steady beating of a heart under his ear. Someone's chest, that was someone's chest he was laying on, there was an arm around him and he was apparently half-draped over the other person. Oh, well.

Without opening his eyes, he tilted his head up to mouth a tired, uncoordinated kiss at the other man's neck before he murmured sleepily, "g'mornin', sunshine", and curled up against the other's side again. 

He didn't bother to check who it was yet; Clint had taken him home the evening before, so it wasn't like any horrible surprises would be awaiting him now. He didn't feel hungover, at least. 

A couple of hours must have passed when Tony got pulled out of his dozing by a movement on his body. He wasn't sure why he was so surprised when a few seconds later soft lips kissed his skin, after all he remembered Clint's love for kisses from their first time together. But even though he froze for a split second, especially when he heard the archers sleep-slurred words. He wanted to reply something, but then Tony's gaze fell on the hearing aids on the bedside table. Since his teammate didn't seem to be bothered by laying in bed with him (did he even notice in his state?), the engineer felt assured that he wouldn't get shot from an arrow for doing so.

While Clint contently sniffed at the shirt he buried himself in, the inventor grabbed one of the hearing aids and gently pushed it into the ear that was not momentarily unreachable. "Hey there," Tony mumbled finally. 

Clint squirmed and made a quiet noise of complaint when he felt the cool material of the hearing aid touching his ear. Then, as the voice registered in his brain, he groggily reached up to adjust the ITE and blinked up at the person next to, or more precisely, half underneath him.

" _Tony_?" he heard himself saying, straightening a little so he could look down at the inventor with his sleep-mussed hair and still tired eyes. He didn't look... bothered, exactly, maybe a little surprised.

Well, he didn't look like the world was ending, and that was what it would have taken to get Clint out of bed right now, so he nodded to himself, murmuring "Tony" once again, then a quiet "alright", and then slumped back down onto the other's chest.

"Alright?" Tony questioned, a bit incredulous. That was all Clint said to that? Well, it was definitely quieter than an awkward scene or something.

Apparently the archer didn't plan to get up right now (Tony definitely could understand that, it was nice and warm at the moment), so the engineer didn't bother to alter their position and maybe, just maybe, pulled the sleep warm man closer to himself.

"You're going back to sleep?" Tony finally questioned casually, a little part of himself hoping that Clint would say yes, trying to sound not bothered. 

"Mhhh," the archer made, already half-asleep again - well, it wasn't like he'd really woken up at any point of the conversation.

Then, he remembered that Tony was still right there, beneath him, and although he was absolutely and fully content to spend some more hours like this, the other man might have a different opinion on that, so he felt compelled to add: "Unless you've got other plans. In which case, never mind me." Contradictory to his words, he draped his arm around Tony's waist; the other one was somewhere underneath the other's back and he'd lost all feeling in it. Oh, well.

Chuckling a bit the engineer extracted himself from Clint, but only to lay down properly beside him. "Nope, I'm totally okay here." 

When he had found a comfortable position, Tony pulled his teammate back to his chest and kept him close. Well, if Clint acted this way, he was allowed to do that, too, wasn't he?

Suddenly, Tony felt like all his manic energy that kept him on his feet and _doing things_ most of the time leaving his body, leaving him lazy and tired. Actually, it gave him a warm and fuzzy feeling, too.

In another moment of "ahhhh just do it" the engineer lowered his nose into Clint's hair and took in the scent of the other man. 

"Yup, totally okay."

The archer sighed contently and tucked himself under Tony's chin, forehead resting against the crook of the other's neck, arms wrapping around him while the blanket tangled around their legs. 

"S'nice," he agreed in a sleepy murmur, taking slow, deep breaths and breathing Tony in with each of them. It was, yeah. He liked this.

True to his word, the archer nodded of again a few moments later and left Tony alone with his thoughts once more.

In the last weeks, Clint had been a really good help, a really nice friend he could count on.

Briefly, the engineer wondered if he should take the hearing aid out again, but decided against it, since the other man wasn't sleeping deeply. So they ended up (not cuddling, definitely not cuddling) resting together, Tony drawing some physical comfort he really enjoyed.

Bruce would say that this was a good thing – if he would know. Oh, he wouldn't tell him, he would just try to talk about _stuff_ again.

On the other hand, Natasha knew, and since the physicist had reappeared, they'd bonded a lot.

Tony groaned, that would become great fun. Resignedly, the engineer decided to make the best out of the situation and snuggled closer, using Clint as human blanket. 

The next time the archer woke up God knew how many hours later, he did it all the way, not just drifting along the surface of consciousness. Which meant the memories of his first few minutes in the land of the living that morning came back to him. And he wasn't spared of one detail of them. 

_Aw, Clint, no._

He blinked against Tony's shirt, still curled up and around the inventor, and thought about how he was going to handle this now. The other's arms were still firmly wrapped around him and he contemplated just staying here and ignoring his problems, but since dealing with Tony's reactions was probably going to become one of his problems soon, that most likely wasn't gonna work.

He closed his eyes again, taking a deep breath and committing the moment to memory before he slowly, carefully, straightened up, reluctant every step of the way even as he pulled his arm out from under the engineer and winced as the blood began to return to it.

Tony was looking up at him, wearing pretty much the same expression that Clint must be sporting right now, some sort of uncertain trepidation. 

Before the inventor had the chance to say anything, Clint pointed a finger at him. "I'm not making this awkward if you aren't. Deal?" 

After initially flinching back from the suddenly raised finger, the engineer got a grip on his surprise and smiled back at Clint.

"You really were more relaxed earlier," he stated, forcing one eye brow up. "But I won't make it awkward... But I could make it..." Playfully Tony stroked over he other man's back down to the hem of his shirt. Instead of diving into Clint's pants, he just sneaked his hand under the other's shirt drawing little circles on the warm skin.

He didn't really want to turn the archer on, it was just something he couldn't stop himself from saying, he was used to act like he did. 

"You caught me off guard earlier," Clint responded huffily and then continued mock-gravely: "You saw the dark, uncaffeinated side of me that I can't let people know of. Now you know my secret, I cannot allow you to live on."

He grinned at the inventor and, back to his normal voice, asked: "Speaking of caffeine, how do you feel about a coffee?" 

They were still close, Tony's hand on his back and one of the archer's own on the other's chest, and God did he want to preserve this moment, but he really shouldn't make his affection any more obvious. It was about time he got up.

"Barton, that's a really silly question.", Tony scolded and started to separate himself from the archer. "Let's fetch some and join the other for... breakfast, apparently." He frowned and checked the time again. "Huh, well... Now Bruce shouldn't say again I wouldn't get a good nights rest." Clint chuckled and climbed, a bit clumsily, out of bed.

Together, they wandered into the archers small kitchen, containing the most needed kitchen furniture like a fridge, a stove and a coffee machine. It was nothing too fancy because they'd got a gigantic cooking paradise downstairs, but enough for most of them to get a quick snack. 

"Cliiiiint!" Tony whined while said archer was getting two coffee mugs. When he turned around, he was greeted by a sulking engineer with crossed arms. "You forgot it? You forgot it!" After a second of quizzical glances from Clint, Tony sighed heavily and pointed at the coffee maker. "It's empty!"

The archer slumped visibly at these words. "You forgot to get new coffee..." Of course he knew that they didn't live in the Tower anymore, but that was coffee.

Now sighing too, the agent pressed one of the mugs in Tony's hands, ruffled through the inventor's chaotic bed head and headed to the elevator. "Communal kitchen," was his only reply. 

A few seconds later, when they both stood in the whirring elevator cabin, Clint caught a glimpse of them in the mirror covering one wall: both with empty coffee mugs in their hands (and why had they taken the mugs? There were enough of those downstairs), both sleep-ruffled; Tony had slept in jeans and had his hair standing up in impossible directions and stared down at his empty cup sorrowfully while Clint, in his tee and sweatpants, blinked at the mirror owlishly.

An unwarranted giggle escaped him and Tony glanced up at him quizzically, as if trying to figure out an uncooperative equation, which made the archer laugh even more. 

He had quieted again by the time they arrived at the communal floor and padded into the kitchen next to each other, both making a beeline for the coffee machine. Clint poured them both a cup of caffeinated heaven and, as if they had been doing it for years, Tony handed him the sugar while Clint pushed the milk carton over towards the other man.

"Careful, you're hot," Clint warned, then blinked. "It's hot, I mean. You too, of course." He shook his head. "Anyway, caffeine." Almost in synch with Tony, he sat down at the table and, for the first time, looked up at the team. 

The team. Right. Which was gathered in the kitchen. And they all were very quiet. Disturbingly quiet, come to think of it. Clint blinked at them. 

"What are you all looking at?" 

Following the archer's question, Tony peeled his eyes away from the coffee. Huh, everyone was there, they hadn't made a sound since Clint and he had entered, had they? Fucking ninjas.

"Nothing, Clint, nothing," Natasha said, amusement clearly evident in her voice. Apparently, was she mocking him a little for falling asleep that way yesterday. Tony shrugged, not his business, and took a big gulp of coffee. Perfect.

It was after the first coffee, the engineer headed to the counter with not only his, but Clint's mug as well, when his brain started to get awake properly. So he asked: "Hey, Brucie? Hope you got some sleep, too? You looked like you needed it." Returning with the next round of project replacing-the-blood-with-coffee, Tony inspected his science bro. He seemed okay again, to his relief, seeing Bruce exhausted and hurting was always a bad thing, the engineer had noticed that years ago.

So he turned to the archer to pass him the fresh liquid, pointedly ignoring Steve's gaze he could feel on himself.

"You're a gift from the heavens, Tony," Clint stated as he took the offered mug from the engineer and blew on the steam rising from it.

Natasha, who was seated at the opposite side of the table, was still watching him with some sort of fond, amused spark in her eyes and Clint sent her a half-hearted glare as he demanded: "Seriously, what is it? Have I got something on my face?"

Her smile only widened and she shook her head, ignoring his question as she pointed out: "Coffee still doesn't count as a food group, you know? Not mother-henning you or anything, but maybe, just maybe, you should try something else." 

The archer clutched the mug to his chest protectively, but still looked up to acknowledge the items on the table. Since no-one had lived in Avengers Tower for a while, there had apparently been no food here, but the team seemed to have ordered in from some breakfast place or the other. Clint hadn't known that there were places like that, but then again, when you were funded by Tony Stark, you'd probably get everything delivered one way or another.

Tony grinned when the archer followed the woman's _friendly request_ , something that sounded like nothing serious but could develop to "do it or you'll regret it" situations disturbingly quickly. He'd already had some of those, he didn't doubt that Clint had experienced them, too.

So the engineer pulled out his phone and started to skip through the stuff he'd down in the workshop, and nursed his coffee. It was his luck that Natasha didn't want him to eat something, too, the only thing his stomach accepted was caffeine.

Slowly, the team started talking to each other again, but Tony was oblivious to what the talk was about. He had turned the voices down to something similar to a white noise, while he was busy to find something to do for the day.

Clint was munching on a bread bun while conversations around the table resumed, but he still noticed the occasional look being thrown into Tony's and his direction. Alright, so they had come to breakfast together, and both looking a little dishevelled at that, but it wasn't like anyone _didn't_ know he and Tony were sleeping together. Except for Steve, maybe. So even if the others now assumed that they'd had some morning fun, that wouldn't be anything new, right?

After swallowing down his current bite, he asked: "When will we be going back to HQ?" 

"This afternoon, I suppose," Steve responded with a shrug. "As soon as everybody is up and running. You two... slept till midday, after all." 

"Seeing as how y'all are still having breakfast, you can't have gotten up much sooner," the archer pointed out. "Also, it's - oh, crap, it's midday. Dammit! I gotta text Tom, I'll be right back." Without further explanation, he abandoned his breakfast and hurried out of the room towards his own floor to find his phone. 

It was a running archer got Tony's attention again. "What the?" he groaned, startled, when Clint accidentally bumped into his chair while exiting the room. 

"Tom? Who's Tom?" Well, that was a good question, Tony had to give Steve that. 

Obviously, it was someone important, deducing from the speed the archer managed in his state.

"Ahhh... Tom it is," he nodded, immediate trying to conclude all the information he now had about his friend's crush. Now he finally had a name to the faceless man.

Only five minutes later an, obviously relived archer re-entered the kitchen and slumped down on his chair again, phone still in his hands. Grinning broadly Tony abandoned his coffee to face the other man with his whole body.

"Sooo, you had a date, am I right? You had a date and you missed it because of the alarm and now you thought he'd be angry?" he questioned, trying to sneak a glimpse at the screen. "Can I have his number to give him the shovel talk?"

With a groan, Clint held the phone up and out of Tony's reach. He could see Natasha slapping her hand against her forehead with a sigh and Wanda rolled her eyes silently. 

"I swear you're being thick on purpose," he murmured under his breath, hopefully too quietly for Tony to hear. "Tom is _not_ my date," he responded firmly, "and not my crush and anyway, he's nobody important. Forget Tom. Tom doesn't need a shovel talk and – stop it, you're not getting my phone, no."

In that moment, the phone vibrated in his hand and, holding Tony off with one arm, he glanced at the screen to read the answering text. 

Sure thing, he's in safe hands. ;) You fine though? 

"Tom. Not. My date," Clint repeated. "Now let me answer my text." 

Actually, Tony didn't want to let go of getting Clint's phone just now, but the way the archer tried to push him away was more than a bit uncomfortable with the arc reactor. So he grumpily lowered himself into the chair again and pouted the whole time while his friend answered the text he'd just received.

"Come on, Barton, that's just childish," he sulked, subtly glancing on the screen. "If it isn't your little crush, why being secretive?" 

The engineer threw a look towards Bruce, begging for help, but the physicist just shook his head. "That's something called privacy, Tony." 

Clint tapped 'send' and then looked up at Tony, who pouted like a little child. 

"If you must know," he replied, attempting to pocket the phone but then remembering that he was still in sweatpants, "it was about Lucky. Tom is an employee of yours, he works at HQ and takes care of the dog when I'm not there." He patted Tony's shoulder with a smile. "No need to get jealous. I just forgot to tell him that we won't be home at night so Luck didn't get his morning walk. That's all, I swear. Mystery solved."

He picked up his bread roll again and took another bite with a shrug. 

Kind of disappointed by the lame secret, but at the same time a little relieved (obviously because now, he could go on trying to find out Clint's not-boyfriend) Tony mumbled something grumpy under his breath. Maybe he should check out his employee anyway, just to make sure? The engineer fetched his phone to send JARVIS a message to do so, but to be discrete about it.

"So what are y'all doing now?" He pointed at Bruce. "My buddy and me are going to do some awesome science stuff as always, feel free to feel free." 

Clint shrugged, finishing his breakfast and downing the last of his coffee. 

"Probably start writing a report," he replied with a long-suffering look towards Natasha, who nodded affirmatively. "But I'm getting dressed first." 

He stood up from the table where the rest of the team was beginning to wrap up breakfast as well, grabbed his and Tony's coffee mugs and gave a small wave before heading towards the elevator. The others were still cleaning up, so he was alone in the cabin – or he was until Tony slipped in before the doors could close, his phone still in his hand.

Clint pressed the button for his floor pointedly and declared: "We're going up first. Also, that was the weirdest breakfast ever. Seriously. They were _so_ weird today, all of them. Am I the only one who noticed that?"

Amused, Tony raised an eye brow. "Demanding," he purred, grinning, before frowning at Clint's question.

"Yeah, I've noticed. Not only today, it already began yesterday after the battle. Believe it or not, Wanda came to me and told me about her past. Totally out of the blue, about idols and stuff. Totally weird." 

That pulled an incredulous face from the archer, whose head swung around. "You're kidding, aren't you? Wanda? Never took _her_ for the sharing type, to be honest." The man paused. "That really _is_ weird." 

Tony nodded eagerly, glad to tell how weird everything had gotten. "Yeah, that's what I'm saying. And it's not only her, it's Bruce, too, who _also_ keeps wanting to talk about stuff. Which is totally strange, because he's someone who tries to avoid exactly that. We're similar at this regard," he ranted and then let out a sigh. 

"And how are they weird with you?" 

Clint leaned back against the elevator wall as he tried to phrase his sentence without lying, but without giving too much away. 

"Well," he said, drawing the word out long, "you know. It started with Natasha figuring out my... crush problem thingy," he waved a hand around in the air while he stared at the opposite wall next to Tony's head, "months ago, really, and then other people started finding out about it, and then there was Wanda, the mind-reading little devil, and... yeah. Suddenly everybody has to play therapist."

He heaved a sigh and suppressed a laugh at how ironic it was that he was complaining about this to Tony of all people. "You know, they all think they're being so helpful, trying to get me together with him-who-must-not-be-named, but they're really not. Keep dropping hints, too, and everybody seems to be wanting to talk to me about feelings, but all of that goes right over _his_ head." 

The archer stopped himself before he could get tangled up in his own words and glanced over at the digital screen that showed the elevator's position, suddenly feeling tense like he always was when it came down to this topic, especially with Tony. Had the lift always been this slow?

"Huh? Sorry, Birdie, I can really understand the guy. I'm living with you and if you wouldn't have mentioned it to me, I wouldn't have known that the others are trying to get you a boyfriend," Tony laughed. "And if I haven't noticed, how should he –"

The engineer froze at the expression of the archers face. And slowly, but steadily Tony began to understand.

"Oh." Tony tried to say something but the only thing that came out was "oh." Somewhat overwhelmed with that knowledge he took a step back to lean on the elevator door, too. "Oh– I'm sorry but... Oh... Well... But that explains a lot, I suppose?"

Tony chuckled slightly helplessly. In the past minute, Clint had gone really pale and the engineer hoped he wouldn't faint or throw up or something, but that was understandable, wasn't it? 

Then, the archer opened his mouth, but the words didn't make it out since the elevator chose that moment to stop dead, exact one floor before Clint's. "Oh, fuck."

The archer stared at the doors with wide eyes, like that was going to make them magically slide open again, over at Tony, back at the doors. 

"Don't do this," he said to the elevator, a note of panic creeping into his voice. "Come on, that's a joke, right? JARVIS – no, right, no JARVIS here. Fantastic." If he just kept talking, maybe that would keep Tony from saying anything. That would be good. That would be great. yeah.

Of course, it probably didn't take a genius to figure Clint out, and since the inventor _was_ one, it was surprising that it had taken this long at all. But seriously, this was not how Clint had pictured this going. Alright, honestly, it wasn't like he'd ever gone as far as allowing himself to picture this moment, but _if_ he had, there wouldn't have been an elevator involved, for one. Definitely not one that got stuck.

He interrupted his own babbling to turn back around to Tony with a frown of indignation. "Hold on a minute, that explains a lot? What's _that_ supposed to mean?" He was lost already, he could just go all the way down if he'd already started anyway.

"Um... Never mind. Not that important." 

Both to avoid the elephant in the (really small) room as well as to find a way out of said room, Tony started to inspect the elevator's console. Groaning in annoyance, he searched in his jeans pockets for something he could use to open the display but he wasn't successful. Of course not, how should he have been able to sleep in these jeans if the contained hard tools?

When he turned around to ask Clint if he had an idea or something else of use, he found his friend still white as a sheet and slightly panicking.

"Um, Clint, buddy... Take a breath, um... You are breathing, aren't you? I really don't want you to pass out in here or something." Helplessly Tony let go of the tech in the wand and directed his attention at the distraught archer. "Um.. You're alright? Because... Um... I am, if that's what you're worried about. No need to get... Well..."

Oh, he really wasn't good at this. Was it inappropriate to touch Clint now? Not risking anything, the engineer decided against it and tried to say something soothing.

"Whatever you are at the moment... Don't worry.. We're okay? Just like you said before, I won't make it awkward if you don't."

Clint chuckled helplessly (not hysterically, no, he wasn't hysterical _at all_ ) and forced himself to take a deep breath. Yeah. Breathing was good.

"I could climb out," he offered weakly, pointing at the hatch in the ceiling of the small cabin. "Pull you up from there." 

Since he couldn't very well run away from the problem at hand right now, he decided to do the next best thing: he was going to completely ignore it and freak out later. _Don't even give it a chance to get awkward, then it won't._

Well, not much more than this, anyway. It wasn't like it could get any _worse_ , with the fucking elevator stuck as it was, so he could as well start doing something.

"Man, what would I give for a sonic screwdriver right now," he muttered under his breath and got onto his tip-toes to find the opening for the hatch. 

Tony chuckled softly. "Nerd." Reaching out, he pulled at the archer's shirt to stop him from his attempts to escape via vents. "Stop it, it's too high, you haven't got wings, Birdie, that's still only a metaphorical nickname." He slid down to the floor and got as comfortable as it was possible.

"They will notice that the elevator is stuck sooner or later. And I know it's odd that this is said by me, but maybe we should talk about it? Don't think it would be so good if you run into the others in that state." When Clint didn't move, Tony groaned quietly and rubbed the back of his head. "Sit down, Barton." 

" _I'm_ not the shortest person in the room," Clint murmured crankily, but still gave up on his endeavour with a huff.

He dropped down flat onto his feet again, leaned against the wall and slid down with his back to it until he was seated on the floor. The conversation would never have turned out that way, he mused, if he hadn't mentioned the general weirdness of the team. _Lessons for life, Barton, keep your trap shut._

"Nothing to talk about," he muttered, stubbornly staring at an incredibly interesting patch of metal wall. "'s the way it is." 

"Yeah, okay... No, wait, not okay. I like you, Clint and I don't want that things are becoming complicated between us." Tony let his hands ran through his hair. "God, I'm not supposed to be the responsible one." Was it completely impossible to have an easy relationship without a bunch of problems everywhere?

"Okay..." the engineer mumbled to himself and moved closer to his teammate. "Okay... Let's sort things out... How long do you already..? And why have you never said something?"

"What was I _supposed_ to say?" Clint blurted before he could stop himself. He finally looked up at Tony (and God, he was absolutely done for, he still wanted to kiss him) and gave the inventor a sarcastic smile. "It's not like that does anything, especially with a guy who's already got his interests all sorted out." He ignored the unspoken, but very distinct _Steve_ hanging in the air between them.  
Pulling a knee up to his chest, he shrugged and stared back at the ceiling. "I was just... you know. Waiting for life to do its thing, waiting for it to pass. And waiting. _And_ waiting some more. Didn't do me much good." Another shrug, because there wasn't much else he could do, was there? "Been a while, to be honest. I mean, if I count my _long_ time of denial, a year or two? Probably rather two than one."

In a sudden moment of drama, he threw his arms up and let his head fall back against the metal wall. "And it all comes down to an _elevator_. Of all goddamn places you can end up in this job, an elevator. That's just _amazing_." 

"Yeah... Fantastic," Tony joked weakly and fell silent, not knowing what to say or even think.  
Clint had obviously shared this opinion and also didn't say anything more.

The silence stayed for roughly two minutes before the elevator started sitting and jumped back to life. Clint and Tony looked up startled, but didn't questioned the sudden fix of their cell.

Seconds later they stopped again, this time at Clint's floor. Before the doors opened, JARVIS' voice sounded into the small room: "I'm sorry, sir, it wasn't planned to go like this."

"Wait, what?" Incredulously, Clint stared up at the ceiling, but before he had a chance to say anything else, the doors opened. 

Revealing the whole goddamn team standing around the elevator in a half-circle, all with expressions ranging between sheepish and expectant. 

The archer exhaled a short breath and then laughed hollowly. "Oh, I should've seen this coming," he stated flatly as he got to his feet. "Seriously, I should've figured it from the very beginning, because since when do Tony's elevators get stuck? Right, that's it, they don't." Fuming with anger, he made his way through the team, glad that they had at least the decency to get out of his way and look sheepish when he glared at them. "But why don't we all pretend to be sixteen again and do the closest thing we can get to locking two people in the closet? _Brilliant_ idea, really, because apparently, it's common knowledge that I need help dealing with my own fucking business." He grabbed his bow case from where it was leaning against a wall and turned around to face the others, spreading his arms wide. "Thanks, guys, what would I do without you."

He stormed over towards the door next to the elevator, snapping a sharp "I'm taking the stairs" before he slammed the door behind himself. 

Tony was a lot slower to stand up again. He looked around without making a sound and just shook his head, but he was sure that the team heard his muttered "how did you expect this to go? Thought you'd find us making out in there?"


	17. Chapter 17

Since he didn't think it would be productive to run after Clint (Natasha would be a much better choice), the engineer decided he needed a few minutes for himself, too. 

After a last glance at Steve, who had the decency to look guilty, Tony headed to the stairs himself. Clint should have had enough lead that they don't meet each other accidentally.

After less than five minutes in the shooting range, the door opened again and Clint breathed out slowly, letting the arrow he'd been holding fly, before he turned around to face Natasha.

"Brilliant plan," he stated drily. "A little immature for you, I'd have thought, but apparently, you all had the times of your lives. Good for you. _Good_ for you."

She didn't roll her eyes, but it seemed like a close call. "You're acting like we did this to wind you up, it's childish. Don't you –"

Clint nearly dropped the bow as he took a step towards her, cutting her off mid-sentence: "Oh, _I'm_ childish, yeah? If I'm childish, then what am I supposed to call that stunt just now? 'Oh, let's lock them in the elevator until they confess their undying love to each other', was that how it was supposed to go? Did you seriously think that was gonna work?"

"Listen, Clint –"

"No. No, for once, _you_ listen to _me_ , alright? Because this is about me, and tell you what? We had something good there. We had something really nice going on, until you lot decided to come blundering in and help poor little Clint, because how is he supposed to take care of himself? No, we're gonna do that for him, because we know what's best. Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a plan alright. It's not like we heave our own problems, no, let's ignore those and take care of somebody else's, because isn't that always the easier way?"

With a harsh sigh, he looked away from Natasha, who had returned his furious glare with a carefully blank expression that had turned into a quizzical frown at his last question. 

Staring up at the high ceiling like it held all the answers, he asked, more quietly now: "Just tell me. How on Earth did you think that was a good idea?" 

A few beats of silence, then she asked: "Are you done?" 

He glared at her. "Yes," he snapped, "yes, I'm done." 

She took a breath and folded her arms in front of her chest. "Tony likes you." 

"Not like _that_." 

"Let me finish my sentences, would you?" she chided and he slumped down onto one of the benches lining the wall, gesturing for her to go on. "Tony likes you," she repeated, "you've been pining for him for God knows how long, and he needs someone to distract him from Steve." 

"And you thought _that_ was the solution?" Clint laughed incredulously. "And you actually believed that was gonna _work_? Tasha, please don't tell me I'm supposed to believe that."

"Stop being huffy for a moment and think about it," she responded. "He likes you more than the rest of the team, not taking Bruce into account, but these two are practically joined at the hip, so that really doesn't count. You definitely like him, so don't you think it would do both of you good to give it a try?"

"I'm asking you again," the archer replied. "How did you hope to accomplish that by locking us into an elevator?" 

She shrugged slowly. "That wasn't my idea," she pointed out. "I just went along because I thought it might help. Didn't turn out the way I wanted it to, obviously, but I take it he at least knows by now." 

"Yeah, and a fat load of good that did me," Clint grumbled. He'd taken to fiddling with the string of his bow sullenly, still silently seething with anger. "Have you _any_ idea how awkward this is going to be? He's my friend and my teammate and now he knows, and no matter how much you go and promise not to make things awkward, something like that just changes the way you view a person, and I know that you know that. Look, I get you all just mean the best, but why don't you take care of your own issues?"

"What do you mean, my own issues?" Natasha asked back quizzically. 

Clint rolled his eyes and then raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, I don't know, since I don't mean to drag Captain Obvious into this, but _Steve_?" 

"Ah, yes. Right." She nodded. Paused for a beat. "Wait, what do you mean, _Steve_?" 

Tony entered the workshop with a blank expression on his features. As soon as Bruce heard the sound of someone getting closer, he pushed his chair back from his workbench to stand up. 

"Ah, there you are," the physicist greeted calmly, frowning when he saw his friend's face. "What's wrong?"

Of course he knew from the plan the team had thought up while having breakfast, and he hadn't really approved and therefore preferred to go into the workshop. He was positive that Tony would come there in the end if something went wrong, and then he was there to help.

"Clint has a crush," the engineer stated flatly.

Bruce frowned, slightly confused. "Yes, but I think we've established that already, Tony." 

"Yeah... No... I mean.. He's crushing.. On _me_."

Oh. Oh. Well, that explained his behaviour, and showed that the plan hadn't worked out well. At least now Tony knew about it. 

"Yes he does," Bruce confirmed calmly, waiting for his friend's reaction. 

"You knew? Of course you knew. Everyone knew.. And no one thought about telling me?" The engineer slumped down on his own chair, letting his head fall in his hands, looking defeated. "But what am I supposed to do know? Bruce, I've had no idea what I should say to him. And he didn't want to talk about it." 

Well, that _really_ hadn't worked out, apparently. "Tony, you know what Clint wants from you, but what is it what you want? I know about Steve, and what happened before you and Clint had sex for the first time. So you have to decide if you like him enough to try a relationship or not." 

A humourless chuckle sounded from behind the hands. "Oh god, Bruce, are you seriously asking me about feelings and relationships? You really should know that that's not my best topic." The dark hair, still tousled from sleep and from continually running through them, made Tony look like the crazy inventor that he was, but also very young and helpless.

"I know that, Tones, and so does Clint. But have you noticed how you two interacted with each other during the last weeks? Compare that to one of the others or even Steve. There's a great difference." 

"What do you mean?", the other man asked doubtifully. 

Oh, why the hell did _he_ have to deal with this outcome? He hadn't provoked that, so why couldn't one of the others talk this out? "Do you know the difference between love or affection and... idolism?"

At that Tony's head shot upwards. "Oh, not you, too! What do you all have with– oh." Bruce smiled wryly, glad that his friend had figured that out alone. "Oh come on, how am I supposed to be a genius when even a kid figures out things faster than me?" he groaned in annoyance. "And what do I do now?"

The physicist rose from his stair and closed the gap between Tony an himself. "What about going to Clint and think the whole thing through?"

And surprisingly, the engineer did exactly that.

Natasha ran off after his snappy response – or, well, no, that wasn't nearly dignified enough, but she did stalk off faster than she usually would have. _And calling me oblivious_. Clint wondered what she was going to say to him, because although he was aware that Steve had taken a liking to Natasha (he'd kept an eye on that), he hadn't seen anything that would indicate it to be reciprocated. 

Well. That wasn't his problem, was it? 

He stayed down at the shooting range, because even though he could... sort of?... understand Natasha's reasoning after she had laid it out for him, the way things happened had still been the same. It wasn't gonna change because there was a good intention behind it and right now, he didn't want to think about that for another one or two hours. Also, down here, nobody was going to come and disturb him to apologise or, worse, try to cheer him up with some deep story or anything. 

Behind him, the door opened.

 _Shouldn't even have thought that_ , he thought wryly, _because this is Murphy's law right here_.

Tucking his arrow away with a sigh, he turned around with a cranky dismissal already on the tip of his tongue, but it died on his lips when he spotted Tony coming through the doorway, heading towards him.

"Heyyy, Tony," he greeted, drawing the words out long, stalling, while he tried to work out what to say as he took a careful step backwards. He shouldn't have worried, really; as soon as he had started talking, the words came tumbling out without hesitation. "So, Natasha's been talking to me, because she does that, I think she appointed herself as my therapist or something –" 

"Barton –" 

"– which is, I'd like to point out, completely unnessecary, but that's Tasha for you, anyway, so we were talking and she –"

"Barton." Tony kept walking towards him while Clint backed away with the wall somewhere behind him.

"–well, she didn't apologise, because Natasha doesn't do that, in, like, ever, but she did tell me that there was apparently some plan behind this that's been designed by the whole team –" 

"Barton, if you would just –" 

"–because they all seem to be in on the thing, somehow, and how did that happen, anyway? Whatever, apparently, because I was –"

"You know, I don't think I've ever actually heard you talk this much. Especially not without breathing. Are you breathing?" 

"–being stupid, which shouldn't come as a surprise anymore considering how long she's known me –", and there it was, the wall against his back, _fantastic_ , and Tony was still coming towards him, "– but she seemed to want to do something about that and had some arguments that apparently made sense in her head –"

"Jesus Christ, Barton." 

"–so she..." 

Then, Tony was taking hold of his shoulders and kissing him. For a moment, Clint's lips kept moving to form words that weren't going to be audible, but he caught up with what was happening after a moment and froze, unsure of what the hell he was supposed to do now. He didn't get _anything_ anymore. 

Oh, well. 

He felt the nervous tension draining from his body and slowly melted against Tony's lips, feeling oddly reminiscent of their first kiss at HQ. The inventor pulled back before long and Clint licked his lips unconsciously and nodded. 

"Alright," he said quietly, "got the hint." 

Tony raised a mocking eyebrow. "You sure? I could do it again if it's needed," he offered half-jokingly, half-serious.

To see the archer _still_ that panicky was kind of unsettling and the engineer grew a bit worried about that. And additionally, he really didn't know how to calm his friend down properly, that had been Natasha's job after all (instead, she had just made it worse somehow).

Oh, and of course he didn't have a clue how to explain Clint why he wanted to try _something_ between them when the archer knew about his kind-of-crush on the Captain. 

His friend laughed nervously now, holding back another bulk of words which were laying on his tongue. 

"Um... Okay... Barton... Clint... Could we talk? I know you didn't want to and maybe still don't, but, well?" Tony let his eyes flicker around the range to find a place to talk more comfortable than against the wall. "I want tell you something about trying something- you know what? It's complicated, I've just talked to Bruce, apparently he's my Natasha, except that when he turns angry it gets dangerous – well, that's the case with Natasha, too. Oh great, now I am babbling, too."

Subtly, he backed away from the other man and dragged him towards the table where, at the moment, Clint's arrows were laid out. Hastily, but still careful, the engineer picked them up and placed them on the floor to make room for them to sit on the tabletop.

"Thanks," he nodded when the agent didn't make any move to stop him. "Okay, better, isn't it? I'll make it short, I promise. I've talked to Bruce, and found out what Wanda tried to tell me with her idol story yesterday. But man, how was I supposed to get that?" Tony shook his head to stop himself. "Ah, never mind, the point is, apparently I've got messed up my affections.. You know? The rest thinks I'm actually just idolising Cap for some reason and am not really crushing. You know just that weird kind of teenage-hero-crush people develop for pop stars and miles Cyrus."

At this moment, Tony wasn't sure anymore if he still made sense, because Clint started to look very disbelieving, but still kept his mouth shut.

"So... Bruce suggested we could try to have a thing together because we already have a thing, a different thing, but we act like we have a real thing... You know?"

Totally helpless and nervous he ran his hands through his hair for the umpteenth time this morning. That would get a hell to brush them later, but that wasn't important right now. 

"So, I want to try to have... You know... A relationship thingy with you... Even if I'm not the relationship guy, you know that, everyone knows that.. I mean, if you still want. Wait, did you want that at any point?"

Clint clamped a hand over Tony's mouth and raised the other as a sign for the inventor to shut up for a moment. 

"Wait, let me catch up," he demanded. "Are you – are you asking what I'm thinking you're asking? Because I– I'm–" He took a deep breath. "Alright. Okay. I..." With a shake of his head, he bit his own tongue before he could keep rambling.

With a sigh, he turned towards Tony on the table and forced himself to look straight into his eyes. With his voice as stable as he could manage, he declared: "First of all, if you're doing this out of pity or for the sake of a joke, I swear to God, I _will_ punch you in the face." 

Intently staring back at his maybe-soon-to-be-boyfriend he answered, a bit insulted: "You're kidding, right? You really think I would embarrass myself to that extent if I didn't really want that? Come on, I'm clinging to my reputation of a playboy, and playboys don't do pity."

Hoping that Clint had gotten what he wanted to tell him, Tony waited for the archer to speak again. 

Clint nodded with a half-smile, feeling his heart pounding in his throat as he stared at the arrows on the floor. 

"Alright," he mumbled quietly, Then, looking up at Tony again, he repeated more distinctly: "Alright. Fine. Let's give it a try, then." The whole thing felt surreal, like it might disappear if he blinked, woke up, but then again, biting his tongue had felt very real, so he'd have to bet on that.  
Taking a breath with a crooked smile, he pointed out: "There's just a _tiny_ little problem. I _really_ don't want to have to tell Natasha that her little elevator scheme worked..."

Tony cracked a grin before nodding mock-seriously. "Oh yeah, that really is a problem. That would push her ego way too much for my taste and she would run around with her I-always-know-best face for weeks. I don't think that I could take that either."

He stopped, uncertain what to say now, and looked into Clint's eyes again. "So... We could try to keep it a secret for know, just to amuse ourselves? And of course so they don't built up to high hopes and it doesn't work out in the end."

The archer nodded, reminding himself that that _was_ a possibility still.

"Sure," he agreed, twirling an arrow between his fingers before he hopped off the table. "Lemme just... pack up. I suppose I'm done here." 

He gave Tony a cheeky grin. "You know, if somebody had told me that all it would take was getting stuck in the elevator, I would have done that sooner." 

"It was about time, too," JARVIS' voice suddenly rang put from the ceiling and Clint almost dropped the arrow he was holding. 

"You!" he exclaimed. "You were in on that, too, you traitor! Who reinstalled you anyway?!" 

"Doctor Banner has been so kind as to reassert my control over the building," the AI told them, most definitely sounding smug while doing so. 

The archer shook his head with a huff. Apparently, the household AI was back to its usual insolent self, too. 

Gravely, he looked up at Tony and warned: "Just you watch out. First the elevator, then comes the whole Tower. Nobody is safe." 

While Clint stored away his training bow, the engineer actively looked at his friend (boyfriend?), trying to take in all the little details he'd never had paid attention to.

"JARVIS conquered the Tower before it was cool," he grinned, leaning against the table. "But you're right, you don't want him as your enemy. Which raises the question, how did I manage that? Wasn't I always great to you, J?"

"I would hardly call myself your enemy, sir," the AI responded, sounding surprisingly insulted for a computer with supposedly no emotions. "I would rather label myself an... active guardian angel." 

Clint snorted. "Yeah, you're an angel alright," he murmured. "Wait, if you're an angel, does that make Tony God?" 

"That would be something I like!" Tony called, sounding more than amused.

"Of course it would be." Sometimes the engineer asked himself why his AI had the same ability like Bruce to talk so that you could _hear_ the eye roll in his words.

A second later he groaned: "Oh fantastic ... Now I've to picture you in a white fluffy dress and wings, thank you for that image." 

Clint giggled from his spot on the floor and looked up at Tony with his eyebrows raised. 

"The things going on in your head, Stark," he mused. "Sometimes I'm glad I'm not Wanda." 

"Not only you, I'm really glad to that you're not the little witch." At the thought to have a relationship with a psychic, a little shiver wrecked his body. That would make things even more complicated, and that was something he didn't need. Maybe he should ask Vision how he put up with that.

"Be nice," Clint chided teasingly and finished packing his quiver up. 

Then, deciding to try something, he set both quiver and bow case down on the table next to Tony, who was still seated on the tabletop. Without preamble, he threaded his hands through the inventor's hair and leaned in for a short kiss, only lasting a heartbeat before he was already pulling back again. 

"Am I allowed to do that now?"

That came as a surprise for Tony, but he found that he didn't really mind. But why should he? He'd always liked kissing.

"Weren't you allowed before?" That wasn't meant as joke but an honest question. Apparently he really didn't hit that whole relationship thing. 

Back then before Pepper, he never had kissed his one night stands the day after – but mostly because he or the person was already gone.

"Just checking," Clint replied with a small shrug. "I mean, I couldn't very well go around casually kissing you for no apparent reason." _Not like that stopped me, but you were usually asleep for that._ "Would have made the whole keeping it a secret thingy a little difficult, don't you think?"

"Um, yeah I guess." Tony shrugged, before noticing something. "Huh, if we're going to leave for the headquarters soon, maybe we should go dressing ourselves for real now? I just hope it'll go without surprises this time." The last sentence was directed at the ceiling, which kept silent at the jokingly uttered threat.

"Ah, another thing J, don't you dare to tell the rest what happened here!" 

"But what am I supposed to answer then when Dr. Banner and Ms. Romanov ask which result this meeting had?" the smooth voice asked, still too amused for its own good.

Tony grumbled good-naturedly: "'When', not 'if'? Why can't they just mind their own business? What do you think, Clint?"

The archer leaned back against the table next to Tony and released a long breath, then shrugged. 

"Well, as I said, I'm not actually ready for Nat's smug 'told you so' yet, but let's not even try and pretend we can keep Natasha from finding out, because she always does, sooner or later. Probably sooner. If she knows, it's probably only fair to let Bruce know, too, right? Think they can keep it to themselves?" 

Maybe it was childish, but he didn't want to admit to the team yet that maybe, just maybe, their stupid, immature elevator assault had done... something, at least, even if it hadn't worked out the way they had pictured it. He was allowed to sulk a little, wasn't he?

"So let JARVIS tell them– ah no... God, why do I had to live under one roof with spies? That's definitely not healthy."

Jumping down from the table and stretching, he resigned a bit. "Well, just tell those curious two what happened – not in detail, don't even think about giving them a protocol! If you do, I'll totally shut you down again!" he threatened, but didn't doubt for a second that Clint as well as the AI knew he would never do that. "Tell them to shut up about it for at least a day or so, would you? I'm going to get ready now." 

Clint looked down at himself and nodded. "Yeah, I should probably be wearing something else than PJ's, too, when we get to the 'jet." He picked both his bow case and the quiver up, slinging the latter over his shoulder and heading for the elevator. "Oh, that's gonna be _great_ ," he groaned with an eye-roll as he pushed the door open with his shoulder. "In an enclosed space with the whole lot of them. Looking forward to that."

A short while later, the team assembled in the now fully refuelled quinjet, ready for takeoff. Against Clint's wishes, Natasha was once more taking the role of the pilot, which forced the archer to sit next to the rest in the back of the vehicle like the day before.

Wasn't it weird how much could change in one single day? Tony didn't has to ask to find out that JARVIS had already informed Bruce and Natasha since both of them threw them a smile before entering. The agent's one was definitely as smug as imagined.

Now they were sitting together in uncomfortable silence, since Clint decided to stubbornly ignore his teammates as revenge for their elevator plan. And while Tony absolutely respected that idea, he couldn't do that and just hoped to get out of the 'jet as soon as possible. Maybe, just maybe he had started scrabbling at the chair's cushions until a hole was clearly visible.

He really had his doubts if the topic wouldn't come up during the flight although he knew that Bruce wouldn't call them out on their relationship; Tony wasn't that sure about Natasha. 

And of course, he had been right. 

"Clint," she called cheerfully from the cockpit – but of course, she had waited until they were high in the air, no way of escaping now. "Tony. How are you two doing?"

"What kind of question is that?" Clint demanded defensively, glaring at her back. 

"Well, since you –" 

"Nope," he interrupted, uncrossed his arms from in front of his chest and plucked his hearing aids out. "Sorry, can't hear you, deaf," he announced. "Talk to you later." 

"What? What? What?" Tony jumped to awareness. "Hey hey hey, Birdie, you can't do that! Oh, you're kidding, right?" 

The engineer heard the carefree chuckle out of the cockpit and he really wasn't sure at whom he was more pissed. 

"God, I hate y'all!" he announced passionately while grabbing Clint's shoulders. "And you're not going to escape that so easily, buddy."

While trying to hold the archer down with one hand, Tony gave his best to get the small hearing aids. But Clint was unsurprisingly strong and fled the hands and raised from his seat to clutch the aids flush to his chest. "Oh come on! Admit it you just want me to try out if you can fly when I kick you out of the jet," the engineer groaned while reaching around the archers back.

"Nope, nope, nope," Clint hissed, ducking a bit so Tony nearly laid on his try-to-be boyfriends back. 

The archer held on to the wall with one hand to prevent himself from falling over, the other was still clutching the hearing aids to his chest. He was aware that Tony was talking – half-draped over his back as he was, Clint could feel the vibrations of the inventor's chest distinctly. Of course, he couldn't figure out _what_ he was saying, but it was probably some sort of complaint.

"I can't hear you," he sing-songed with a broad grin on his face, twisting around and dislodging Tony from his position in the process. He caught the other man before he could lose his balance and tumble to the floor, then repositioned himself on the seat with one arm holding Tony half against his chest and the other one raised in the air to protect his precious hearing aids.

From the corner of his eye, he caught Wanda and Vision exchanging a look and it occurred to him that they were probably doing a horrible job of seeming awkward and uncomfortable around one another. 

So much for that, then. That was probably why SHIELD didn't like to send him on undercover missions. Oh, well. 

Suddenly, their little fight came to a halt so that Tony stayed in an awkward position against the archer. "Um..?" he mumbled, confused, and followed Clint's eyes to their weird couple. "Oh." 

Hastily, he tried to extract himself from the archers grip, as if that would change anything. 

"Well, maybe that wasn't as subtle as I thought it would be. And now could you please – ah, forget it." Tony used the is distraction to _finally_ steal the hearing aids and snuck them to their right place. He couldn't be sure if he succeeded because of his rafinesse or if Clint just took pity on him.

Sighing, the archer reached up to adjust his hearing aids and then crossed his arms in front of his chest again. 

"Now that worked out well," he stated sarcastically and glared around the Quinjet, daring anyone to comment. Right now, the only sounds were the whir of the engines and Natasha's laughter from the cockpit. 

After a moment, however, it was Steve of all people who spoke up: "I'm, um. It's good to see that you two – you know. I'm happy for you." 

Clint stared at him, then at Tony with a long-suffering expression as he murmured: "They're doing the thing. You know, the thing people do in these moments? Anytime now, one of us is gonna get the shovel talk."

"Oh, wait! Didn't I want to give your crush the shovel talk? Damn, I can't give it to myself." Tony made a face when he remembered what he'd said to Clint in the last week concerning his boyfriend. "Ugh. I was a big asshole, wasn't I?" he wondered. All the times he had flirted with the archer or made speculations about his love life.

Miserably, the engineer glanced over at his boyfriend. "I'm sorry, I didn't notice that I was hurting you. I had really no idea –" before he could finish his sentence, Wanda chimed in, an unsettling grin on her lips.

"I could totally hit you with a shovel, if that helps," she offered mockingly, showing every one that she hadn't really misunderstood the saying, but just amusing herself. "You would totally deserve it, by the way."

"No hitting my– Tony," Clint cut in, still stumbling over the word 'boyfriend', one hand resting on the inventor's knee. "I'm flattered, really, but I can do that all by myself, should I have to, I _don't_ need defending from any of you."

"Yes, because we've seen how well things work out when we leave you to do them on your own," Wanda responded drily. 

The archer glared over at her. "Seriously, stop it, all of you, you're terrible." 

Yes, he appreciated their concern, he really did, but there was no need to keep this up now, especially not with Tony next to him. No matter how complicated the inventor's obliviousness might have made things, it wasn't like Clint had helped, either. 

Not really sure how to react to Clint's defensive words, he just rubbed his hands together.

"How long until we arrive?" Tony asked, smiling awkwardly. He really wanted a bit time for himself to sort his thoughts. 

"Ten minutes, Mr. Stark." Was that amusement in Visions voice? Oh, sometimes he acted just like JARVIS, it was stunning. "Thanks," he mumbled distractedly.

Despite the events of the day, Clint found himself alone in bed that evening – which was maybe not even a bad thing. Tony had been looking thoughtful the whole evening and after his last run with Lucky for the day, the archer had decided that he was going to leave his boyfriend (and maybe he did grin whenever he thought that word, so what?) to his own thoughts for a bit. Maybe he needed it – and if he didn't, well, he was fully capable of coming over himself.

Now, Clint was flat on his back on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. He could feel Lucky curled up next to his feet and didn't have the heart to tell the dog off for it.

Apparently, things had turned out the best way he could have wished for. Which was good. Right? There was no denying it, he was happy, definitely – but still overwhelmed. No matter how often he replayed the scene in his head, it still felt surreal. Maybe because it had come completely out of the left field; there had never been an indication for this before, had there?

The quiet sound of the door opening made him turn his head and raise his eyebrows as Natasha slipped into the room, apparently freshly showered and with some piece of clothing draped over her arm. 

"You're not with your boyfriend," she pointed out. 

"Sharp deduction, Sherlock," he responded drily. With his eyebrows rising further, he watched as she hung what now turned out to be a dress up on the side of his wardrobe and took care of the last few damp strands of her hair with the towel that was draped over her shoulders. Apart from that, she was dressed in sweatpants and a tee, which she obviously planned on changing out of.

"Why?" she asked. "Having second thoughts already?" She made it sound teasing, joking, but he heard honest concern in her voice, too. She so hated being wrong, after all. 

Clint shrugged, turning to his side. "I'd hope not," he replied with a half-smile. "No, I think we both rushed into this a little? For _some reason_." He glared half-heartedly, but couldn't bring himself to put any real venom into it. "Anyway. He was crushing on Steve - or thought he was - for quite a while. I s'pose he'll somehow come to terms with that being idolisation, if it was, but that could take a bit. At least that's my best guess."

"Jealous?" she asked bluntly while slipping out of her clothes. 

The archer shrugged. "Maybe a little," he admitted. "But I don't think I need to be. To be honest, I'm still a little confused myself. It was surprisingly... I don't know. So easy." He stared at the wall, seeing Natasha slip into her dress from the corner of his eye. "I guess we still need a bit to get used to it, both of us." Automatically, he sat up when she turned her back towards him and pulled up the zipper for her. "Why are you here, anyway?" 

"Oh, just..." She shrugged, brushing her hair aside so she could fasten her necklace carefully. "Checking on you." She glanced over at him on the bed. "We're good?" 

Clint smiled with a small huff. "Yeah," he replied, "we're good. Although the elevator thing was still a goddamn stupid idea." 

Natasha slipped into the high heels she had deposited next to his door. "Probably," she agreed. "It worked, though." 

"Oh, shut up." He looked at her and, for the first time, wondered: "What are you getting all dressed up for?" 

"Dinner," she responded casually. The team hadn't eaten together that evening; Wanda and Vision had spent their time in the kitchen once again and the rest had helped themselves to either leftovers or sandwiches at some point in the afternoon. 

Clint watched as she threaded her fingers through her hair, rightening the bright curls. "You don't look like you're gonna go for a pizza," he pointed out carefully.

"Dinner," she repeated and then clarified: "With Steve." Upon his incredulous _"what?"_ , she rolled her eyes and enunciated slowly: "It's called a date." 

Clint swung his legs off the bed to look at her properly. "Yes, sure, but - Steve? When did that happen? Just, like, seven hours ago, you looked at me like I was some sort of alien when when I said his name, and now you're going on a _date_?" 

"Problem?" she asked coolly. 

"Yeah!" The archer crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared up at his friend incredulously. "You don't like Steve." 

She arched a perfect eyebrow at him. "Yes, I do," she contradicted. "I just didn't expect him to like me." 

"He absolutely adores you, that much was obvious," Clint murmured. "But you never – I mean..." 

"It wasn't obvious," she protested. " _I_ didn't notice." 

The archer snickered quietly. "I'm having a déjà-vu here," he muttered. "Yes it was. For anyone but you, at least. So how come you...?" He made a movement with his hand, indicating the dress. 

"I talked to him," she replied with a small shrug, "and then he asked me out." 

"Right that evening," Clint clarified with his eyebrows raised. 

He received another shrug in response. "You never know when the world might be ending, do you?" 

Clint shook his head slowly. Natasha and Steve. Alright, then. He definitely hadn't seen that one coming. Somehow, that seemed to become the norm now, which he was not used to, really. He was the one who was supposed to see things coming from miles away, after all. 

"Okay," he said, drawing the word out long. "Definitely didn't expect that, but okay." 

"Thank you for your support," she drawled sarcastically, but with a good-humoured glimmer to her eyes. 

"No, no, I was just..." The archer shrugged. "Well, good luck? Haven't seen you going out on a date in years. No need to lock _you_ two in a closet, then." 

She gave him a mischievous smile as she headed for the door. "We can find the closet all on our own, thank you." 

Clint laughed heartily and called after her: "Hey, you corrupt Captain America, Tony's never gonna forgive you." 

She just chuckled in response and waved him goodbye before she slipped out of the door again, taking a deep breath that she probably thought Clint wouldn't see before the door feel shut behind her. He smiled, shaking his head fondly, and looked at the dozing dog at his feet as he questioned quietly: "Are we gonna have to find you a girl now, too, Luck?" There was a twitch of an ear at the mention of his name, but other than that, Lucky showed no reaction. Again, Clint shook his head, then he grabbed a pillow, pulled the blanket up and curled up on his side before he reached for his hearing aids.

When Tony had refused Bruce's offer to do science together that evening, the physicist had just smiled knowingly. Of course he could guess that the engineer needed some peace and quiet for his own without having people around him.

That's why he'd grabbed himself a banana from the kitchen (he swore to God, Sam had taken the last sandwich on purpose!) and headed I his room at the communal floor. Absently munching his fruit, Tony stared at the door. Maybe he should look over the newest specs of the project downstairs, nothing too serious, just to distract his mind a bit, but he knew that wasn't going to help. So he sighed and dragged himself into his bed, purposefully not looking in the direction of the door.

Tony could feel the manic energy starting to build up under his skin, ready to erupt and make itself known through a productive all-nighter. While that would definitely distract him, it would leave the engineer just exhausted and not less confused.

"Shit," he mumbled realising that he had to give his problems at least a bit of attention. 

"Okay, so I'm now with Clint." Starting with the easy things, he could do that. "Who loves me, or at least likes me, but I didn't think I would like him back in that way. And Steve, of whom I was pretty sure I would like him, obviously isn't my crush. Or is he? Was he?" Tony threw his head annoyed back in his cushion. "Dammit."

Maybe he should start with his relationship to Steve? And then everything would be make sense from there. 

Idolisation, yeah, that could make sense, even though Tony wondered where his team had gotten that idea from. Now that he knew the circumstances, he could analyse Wanda's words more closely and was surprised (or not) that it had been with him pretty much the same as his own.

Since he had been a young boy, his father or his father's friends had told him about Captain America, the man who had become America's superhero over night. A man who had been a normal (if not even less) man with strong morals who had gotten (from his father) enough strength to rescue the weak.

How should it be possible not to idolise such an amazing person? A person who was so much better than an average person, always right and well respected. It was everyone's dream to meet him and receive one of his smiles, maybe even a nice word. And well, Tony had gotten to meet him, but mostly failed at the rest of the wish.

And even that wasn't really surprising, Tony wasn't like his father, maybe in the bad parts, but only there. He had learned early in life that he had to try harder, practise more and be better, he shouldn't embarrass the family by acting like a child. 

Captain America hadn't been that way, he wasn't always perfect but he worked hard and got rewarded, he was the goal that should be accomplished, the star that was used as guideline. 

So, the engineer mused, it was kind of understandable to be attracted to Steve now, even as an adult. This deep respect was rooted in Tony since his early childhood and it wouldn't be that easy to remove, the need to be accepted.

What kind of guy did Clint see in him? Why did he like him and wanted to get closer still? Tony hurt those people who reached out to him, even when he didn't want it. But maybe the archer could overlook his flaws and they could keep each other happy for a while?

Tony closed his eyes, invoked the pictures of Clint next to him, warm, worried and trusting. Oh, he really didn't want to abuse that. So he would go to sleep now and tomorrow, he would take this relationship into his hands and make it work, let it take as long as it needed.


	18. Chapter 18

It took a while for them to settle in. The first few days, everything was sort of tentative, full of testing boundaries and getting used to being 'a thing' – although, according to the rest of the team, they'd behaved like one long before this, so those changes were probably taking place more in their minds than anywhere else.

Clint found himself wary, continuously waiting for Tony to step up to him and tell him that _no, sorry, that was a mistake, I rushed this, I didn't actually want to do this_ , but that moment never came, so he slowly allowed himself to let his guard down bit by bit.

The first thing they had resembling a date took place in a crowded little bar near Brooklyn. At first, Tony had suggested some sort of fancy restaurant; Clint had responded in his best Iowan drawl that that was _definitely_ the best place for the circus boy, causing Tony to agree laughingly. Also, knowing Tony, Clint was fairly sure that this was more comfortable for him, too, than the stiff atmosphere of a high-class place somewhere where he had to watch his every move.

So now, they were seated at the counter of a small bar, Tony turned towards him and talking animatedly, gesturing with the scotch glass in his hand for emphasis. The archer was grinning as he listened, revelling in the normality of the situation, the relaxed atmosphere. 

That was until Tony stopped talking, raising his eyebrows at something behind Clint. He was about to ask when a hand was placed on his shoulder and someone drawled: "Now, what's a pretty boy like you doing in a place like this?" 

With his expression mirroring his boyfriend's now, Clint turned in his seat and caught sight of Kyle, who regarded him with a bright grin and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The archer snickered and grinned back as he recognised the brunet. "That the best you got?" he asked. "Because it's gonna take a more convincing pick-up line than that to get me away from here now." 

Tony grinned and raised his glass as a greeting at the other man. It had been a while since they had met the last time, even if that encounter had certainly been most interesting; up until now, though, Clint and he had been too busy sorting themselves out to call up old one-night-stands.

Since they had come together there had been a few things that needed their attention. (Not the fact that Natasha and Steve were dating, which was really weird in Tony's opinion.) The men had tried to evolve their sex buddy relationship to something more romantic.

Unsurprisingly, that hadn't always gone very well. Not only that Clint sometimes didn't tell Tony what he wanted in that relationship and obviously had a few secrets still, but the engineer was often inclined to make the same mistakes as in his previous relationship. And even Bruce and the rest couldn't always be there and talk him out of some of his less than fantastic ideas.

The most convenient advantage of this in-team relationship was the fact that the work didn't stand between them, not really. Both knew enough about the job to accept disrupting incoming calls or cancelled meetings, something Tony really appreciated. 

So everything was working out better than imagined and they were still learning so that it stayed that way. 

"Hey Kyle, what's going on? Why are you hanging 'round in a bar? Searching for something?" the engineer finally asked after Clint and the other man finished their banter.

"Oh, I found my something alright," the brunet replied with a large grin. "Just saw you two and thought I'd come over and say hi. So, are you just looking for a third or did you..." He looked at Clint, gesturing between the two with the bottle in his free hand.

The archer smiled with a glance over at Tony. "Yeah, the latter. We... sorted ourselves out, so to say." 

"About time, too, _Francis_ ," Kyle responded (ah, apparently, he had somehow figured out that that wasn't the name he usually went by – not stupid, the boy, not at all). Clint could feel his boyfriend's eyes on him and, without having to say a word, could imagine the inventor's indignant _is there anyone but me who didn't know?_ "Hey, and you know what?" 

Clint raised his eyebrows at the other man. "Nope. What is it?" 

Kyle nodded at a small table at the opposite end of the bar, where a short blond with spiky hair waved at them when he noticed their looks. "So did I." 

Tony took a quick sip from his drink to conceal his chuckle. "Congrats, bud. I see you've got a good taste once more." 

It wasn't a joke, the engineer was glad that Kyle had found someone, too. The man was a really great guy, who totally deserved a nice partner. After all, he had been very helpful in the past and given both Avengers a push into the right direction. Even if he hadn't been fully aware back then. Anyway. 

"Okay, as happy I am to see you, Kyle", the engineer started when they were invited to join him and his boyfriend at the table, "we've got something planned for the night." 

Oh Tony _knew_ that Clint rolled his eyes next to him, but he only winked at the guy, not minding the small blush that he knew crept on the archer's face. Kyle definitely knew where his thoughts had been going and clasped at Tony's shoulder.

"Then I'm wishing you a _satisfying_ evening." 

"Thanks, you too. Ah, and if you or your... Partner need something, just gimme a call!" 

Kyle tipped an imaginary hat back with two fingers as he gave his thanks to Tony, then he was sauntering through the bar, back to his own boyfriend. Clint looked after him for a moment, then turned towards Tony with his eyebrows raised in mock-innocence.

"We've got something planned, then?" he asked, a smirk playing around his lips. "And nobody told me." 

Going with the game, Tony leaned in Clint's direction, pulling up his bedroom face (as Pepper had called it) and whispered promisingly: "Maybe it's supposed to be a surprise." He leaned another few centimetres so that the archer was able to feel Tony's hot breath on his skin. "If you really want to know you should get up now," the engineer suggested.

Clint suppressed a shudder and leaned in to kiss Tony briefly, tasting the scotch on his lips before he pulled back again. 

"Alright," he breathed, "better drink up, then." He finished his drink, watching the inventor do the same from the corner of his eye, and set the glass down on the counter, raising his eyebrows at Tony with just a hint of a challenging gleam in his eyes. 

Totally content with how this was going the engineer grabbed his jacket and, before leaving, pulled Clint close. "Let's come to the _fun_ part of the evening." 

The walk back towards the archer's flat, which was a lot closer than making all the way back to HQ, took just a little longer than normal since they stopped several times when passing an abandoned alley to pull each other close, kissing and teasing.

They'd started sharing beds at HQ most of the nights, but still kept their separate bedrooms, it was just convenient. Even though at this point it was just like two mixed rooms, since they had their belongings scattered in each other's room, too. Clint's flat, however, he hadn't visited since he'd run into his now-boyfriend and Kyle that one night, months ago.

Clint leaned down to kiss Tony again as they stood in front of his apartment, which turned out to be a mistake; he ended up with his back to the door, blindly fumbling for his keys with one hand while his other arm was wrapped around Tony's waist, holding the inventor close. 

Finally, he managed to get his key ring out of the pocket of his leather jacket and turned them around, barely breaking the kiss as he pressed Tony against the door while turning the key in the lock.

They stumbled inside as it clicked quietly and this time, Clint remembered to kick the door shut behind himself as he dropped the keys onto the kitchen counter. 

It must have been _ages_ since Tony had entered a flat like this. Sure he and Clint had sometimes really intense beginnings for their make-out sessions after adrenalin fuelled battles, but _this_ was like his teenage years all over again.

But he wouldn't complain, quite the opposite actually. As soon as he got the opportunity, the engineer switched positions again, now pressing Clint against the wall. Not only has it been ages since this hot entrance, but way too much time since he had been with the archer that way. At first everything had been fresh and new, and after that they were too busy to "sort things out" as Natasha put it.

A little impatiently, Tony tried to remove the leather jacket (as hot as Clint looked in it, it was in the way at the moment), eager to feel his boyfriends skin on his own. 

Clint was helping willingly, shrugging the jacket off and letting it drop to the floor before he tugged at Tony's trademark band shirt demandingly. He pulled it over the other's head and then ran his hands down his bare sides, feeling the smooth skin underneath his own calloused fingers as Tony shuddered. 

With his hands on Tony's jeans-clad hips, he pulled back long enough to murmur against the brunet's lips: "If you think you can manage another flight of stairs, there's a bed up there." 

Tony really contemplated to just throw the archer onto the sofa and not bother to take the stairs but then decided against it. 

It was, after all, their first _real_ time together and they should be something more decent than a quick fuck on one of the nearest surface possible. "Did you really just question my strength, Clint?" he mocked and pulled now himself at the archer's shirt.

Yes, that was definitely better, Tony nodded and dragged his boyfriend upstairs. Without wasting a second Clint could find himself laying backwards on his bed, engineer over him.

Clint grinned up at the other man, tangling his fingers in Tony's hair to pull him down, but this time, he went for the brunet's ear lobe, then the line of his jaw and down the side of his neck, giving out bites and soothing them with careful kisses.

Eventually, he leaned in for another proper kiss and pulled Tony's head down towards him while he let one of his hands run down until it lay in the small of the inventor's back. 

Even though the heat that he was used to was still between them, there was something a little different about the atmosphere of this moment – it lacked the relieved urgency that they usually met wit, there was something calmer about it. There was no need to rush anything right now.

Taking a hold of his boyfriend's shoulders, Clint turned them both so Tony was the one laying on his back and straddled the inventor, running his hands over his chest until they met the reactor's rim. Carefully, he splayed his fingers out around it and leaned down to kiss the scarred skin just above the metal casing.

The engineer sucked in a breath shakily when he felt Clint's calloused fingers at the reactor. It wasn't that he didn't trust him with that device, the archer had shown in Tony's much more vulnerable situations that he wouldn't hurt him. 

But still he wasn't that comfortable with people touching him there and it was weird to kiss that awful place of his body. Still, Clint didn't seem to mind when he continued to let his lips wander down gently. It felt very nice, not only arousing but _loving,_ which changed more than people would think. 

Another thing that Tony noticed was that the kisses felt as soft as when he had touched Clint's lips that one night. 

The only unsettling thing was, that things went different than before when they'd had sex. Not unpleasant, but odd if you were not expecting it. That was why the engineer got a hold on the muscular arms of Clint, dragging him back up to kiss him as well as to get rid of the remaining clothing. While doing that he unconsciously searched for his boyfriends gaze.

When the archer broke away for a second to take a breath, he noticed Tony's questioning eyes on his face and stilled for a moment, returning the other's gaze steadily. He brushed a strand of hair away from the inventor's forehead and cupped his cheek in one hand, tilting his head up a little. 

"You okay?" he asked quietly. 

"Yeah," Tony whispered back equally quietly, unable to tear away his eyes from Clint's stormy ones. Was he imagining or was it more difficult than usual to form words, a lump building in his throat.

At this moment, the engineer began to really understand why his boyfriend had always been that keen on kissing. He had the urge to pull him close and never stop touching him. Well, it wasn't like he couldn't do that, he was totally allowed.

So Tony let up in his efforts to get rid of the archer's jeans for now and initiated another heated kiss. While his tongue found the archer's, he didn't close his eyes to keep watching this special man above him. 

Clint was unaware of that, since his own eyes had fluttered shut as soon as their lips had met again. He had one of his hands in Tony's hair, the other had begun to map out the inventor's shoulder, chest and every other bit of skin that he could reach from the position they were in.

After another minute, the archer broke the kiss, fighting for breath, and looked down at Tony, who stared back up at him out of darkened chocolate eyes. He leaned down to latch on to the other's jaw and before he began to kiss a trail down his neck, feeling the scratch of Tony's goatee against his cheek. 

The engineer shivered under the soft touches and pressed himself a bit upwards to get closer to Clint. 

Another thing he wasn't sure about was the active role the archer took this time. Until now he might have never been passive as in he was just a receiver and didn't move, but he never took charge that heavily. Tony wondered if that happened on purpose or was just a whim and would change back soon.

His hands found their way down to his boyfriend's sides, stroking encouragingly, while taking in the smell of his lover. In the last weeks, he had sometimes been able to do that, just breathe the archer in, but never in this way.

Now, under the dark and rich scent, there was something else, something hot, fuelled by the growing arousal and the engineer got dizzy about it.

"Clint... you're..." Tony stopped as if he had just realised what he had missed before even if it had been obvious. "…mine."

The archer exhaled a shuddering breath against his boyfriend's neck and stilled for a moment, surprised by the sudden jolt of arousal that the possessive growl had sent through him. 

Breathlessly, he nodded. "All yours," he confirmed hoarsely before he placed another bite on the side of Tony's neck. He rolled them both over so they were laying on their sides and he could wrap an arm around his boyfriend, pressing their bare chests together while he ran his other had down the other's abdomen with just a hint of fingernails until his fingers met the button of Tony's jeans.

Involuntarily the engineers hips bucked upwards at the mere thought of where these fingers would go soon. Now in a better position himself, Tony started to take charge now partially. It didn't take much to to let Clint groan when you found the right pressure point on his lower back and Tony loved to use that.

Every time he did this for the first time, it seemed to catch the archer by surprise and so it was this time, too. Moaning throatily, Clint's hand twitched and accidentally scratched the engineers stomach. 

As soon as Tony got rid of his jeans, he flipped them around so that he could pin the archer on the mattress again. Taking up what his partner had done a few minutes before, Tony ducked down and started kissing the tanned shoulder. But he wouldn't leave it at that, he wanted to repeat something he had done at the beginning of their meetings. Clint seemed to sense what he was up to, because he squirmed a bit, but not as much that Tony would be concerned. Instead he just grinned and gently nibbled at the skin, leaving a dark hickey at that place.

God, yes, Tony was _possessive_ , had been from the very beginning; Clint couldn't pretend not to enjoy it thoroughly, though. Maybe that was some leftover primal instinct, to claim and to be claimed, he didn't know – and to be honest, his thoughts were elsewhere right now. 

He pulled the other man up for a kiss and ran his hands down Tony's back until he met the hem of his boxers. One hand stayed there, the other slipped underneath the fabric and squeezed firmly. 

"I'm all yours," he repeated, biting at the inventor's earlobe softly. "Have been for a long time." 

Tony did his best to keep his sigh inaudible. "If I'd just known that earlier." 

How different would have things developed if they'd found together months or years ago? Would they have been happier? Or would they have broken up a long time at this point? Would things have gotten awkward?

"If I'm ever an oblivious idiot again, just punch me and don't wait until we're locked in an elevator," he growled, but noticed that this maybe wasn't that good for the mood. "Sorry, but just imagine, we could've had that weeks ago! Isn't that an attractive thought?"  
Clint didn't seem to be angry about his words, he didn't stop stroking the engineers skin and still breathed labouredly. Quick, to avoid ruining what had grown between them, Tony caught the archers lip's to distract him.

He responded to the kiss willingly, trying to show Tony – even if he wasn't capable of speaking at the moment – that he held no grudge against him for that time. Yes, he'd felt horrible at times, and yes, there had been some jabs and teasing moments that had _hurt_ , but none of that mattered now. What mattered was right here, right above him, pressing him down into the mattress at this exact moment. There was no point in thinking about what could have gone differently.

"I definitely like the thought, but still. No hitting my boyfriend," he murmured when they came up for air. "Unless he's into it, of course, then hitting may be discussed. Anyway. You're still wearing too much."

He tugged the other man's underwear down and stroked his hands over Tony's thighs as far as he could reach in their current position, then moved them back up, taking his time. 

Absently, Tony shrugged away his underwear completely, making room to move freely again, before blinking down at Clint.

"You wanna hit me, darling? Oh, if you're the one doing it, I'm totally in on it." Now the engineer finally took his attention back to Clint's trousers, frowning at the fact that they were _still in place_. How had that that happened?

"I think you're the one who's wearing to much, but don't you worry, I'll take care of that." 

With a last smile he pulled himself back again so that he knelt between the archers spread thighs. Now, he would do something he hadn't done for quite a while, but Tony hoped he hadn't lost the skill somewhere along the way. So he leaned down until his mouth was in line with the jeans' button, and carefully took the fabric between his teeth.

Not wanting to miss Clint's reaction, Tony looked up, seeing his boyfriend staring down at him. Slowly he tugged at the tight fabric, opening the button without rush.

Yep, the sight from here was still the best, nothing could compete with having Clint with flushed cheeks laying on the bed. 

The archer stared down at his boyfriend, first sceptical, then disbelieving when Tony actually managed to pull off his little trick at the first attempt. 

"That really shouldn't look as hot as it does," he murmured under his breath, catching the mischievous, smug grin that the inventor flashed up at him before he bent back down, opening the zipper in the same fashion. Clint bit his lip to suppress a groan because that seriously didn't have any right to look as good as it did, and he could feel Tony's eyes on him when the engineer sat up to rid him of the jeans completely.

While the engineer removed the jeans with his hands, he couldn't resist taking his teeth for the underwear once more. It was surprisingly easy to get hold of it and gently pulling it down the archer's legs. 

Clint's face, for that matter, looked uncertain if he totally enjoyed it or not. Because of that, the engineer took a lot more carefulness for it that necessary and immediately returned to the exposed skin as if to prove that he wasn't going to accidentally bite or anything. After a last kiss on to Clint's thigh, Tony positioned himself new so that he again was seated between the other's spread legs. The engineer's hands found their place on warm hips, securing them on the bed and the archer seemed to know what was going to happen. Slowly, Tony sank down, tasted the pulsing, delicate flesh and grinned at the sharp breath intake above him.

Clint let his head fall back onto the mattress and clenched his fingers around the sheets so he wouldn't give in to the urge to bury them in his boyfriend's hair. He knew the inventor liked to be in control, so he was going to let him.

They'd never changed positions like this before, but _fuck_ , Tony knew what he was doing.

He moaned breathlessly, trying to buck his hips up but was firmly held in place by the other man, so he just tightened his grip on the blanket and bit his lip to suppress the moan that was threatening to slip from his mouth.

In moments like this, the engineer was really uncertain which he found more arousing, the squirming he felt underneath his hands, or how Clint so deliciously tried to hold himself together. Actually, it wasn't important, he just wanted more from both of it.

Was it sadistic that Tony already planned how to drive the other man crazy by keeping him on edge before they even had started? But this sight was a drug and the engineer wasn't ready to give it up already.

Tony held his position for a few seconds, enveloping Clint as much as possible, breathing steadily through his nose. Only when he felt the other's whole body trembling slightly he started to pull back up.

That action was greeted by an indignant growl from down deep in the archer's throat. Chuckling slightly at his boyfriend's impatience as well as the clear display of Clint's arousal, Tony wrapped one hand around the erection's base.

Knowing that it wasn't enough to bring more than minute relief he just gripped softly, feeling the other man trying to buck up.

But that wasn't what Tony wanted, so he continued pressing the other's hips down and took him in again, but this time only the tip. 

Clint keened in frustration and clawed at the sheets underneath him, squirming and trying to get Tony to _do_ something, god dammit. 

" _Tease_ ," he gritted out, glad that it didn't come out as _'please'_. He wasn't that desperate yet. 

Though he felt like he was well on the way when Tony applied his tongue teasingly; the archer shivered underneath him and reflexively tried to arch up again, but his boyfriend still had him pinned to the bed firmly.

Clint whined in protest and took a shuddering breath to try and ground himself, but he wasn't too successful. 

Delighted by the archer's response, Tony felt arousal bubble deep in his stomach.

"Don't deny that you love it!" he mocked playfully when he lifted his head again, for a second just enjoying the view of a really helpless Clint. He still couldn't do anything to gather relief on his own and still tried to pretend that he didn't die for Tony to finally stop playing.

"Did you say _stop, Tony_? If that's what you want, I can totally get away now, no problem." Okay, maybe he got a lot of satisfaction out of this teasing, but he wanted the other man desperate and maybe even begging.

So the engineer licked his lips briefly, making it obvious that he didn't _really_ plan on stopping anytime soon, and got his attention back to the hot flesh under his hand.

The trick was licking in long soft strokes, on the right side of tickling, leaving a weird itching feeling on the sensitive skin. He couldn't wait to see the archer react.

Clint felt his breath catch in his throat before he stuttered an indistinct curse and twisted the sheets balled up in his fists.

"Fuck, Tony, c'mon," he snapped – or tried to, but it came out more as an indignant whimper than anything even remotely threatening. He was probably just in the wrong position for that...

They'd never allowed themselves to take this much time, and as it turned out, Tony was a fucking tease when he got the chance. Clint knew that his boyfriend could keep him like this for ages without letting him come if he wanted to, and that was why he eventually forced out a strangled " _please_ " between shallow gasps for air. 

Tony froze in awe when the archer spit out this one word, looking so flushed and just _done_ , he couldn't be anything but fascinated.

A small, really small part of the engineer's heart melted and just wanted to follow Clint's every wish, but another, at the moment more dominant part wanted to what happened if Tony would keep going.

Well, apparently he would find out now. Figuring that he would have to change his position for his idea, he shifted subtly to not interrupt Clint's slightly hazy state. 

A bit reluctantly Tony released his grip around the erection and instead placed his forearm against Clint's pelvis. The other hand that had, until now, had the task to hold the archer down now wandered down between the exposed thighs. 

When his fingers came close to the throbbing area, they would stay in distance, paying no attention to it. Their target was something more hidden.

In a skilled manner, Tony parted his boyfriend with his free hand and gently stroked the entrance. And while Clint grew more agitated with every second, the engineer was content to breathe light kisses around the other's navel. 

The archer used the brief break to try and even out the rhythm of his short, erratic breaths, but with Tony continuing to tease the way he did, there wasn't much hope for success in that particular matter.

Acting more on autopilot than with any conscious thought in mind, he tried unsuccessfully to push back against his boyfriends teasing fingers, his hips twitching up against nothing because fuck, okay, he was desperate, alright? 

" _Tony_ ," he whimpered again, frustration and pleading lacing his voice in equal parts. "C'mon, please, I am _literally_ pleading with you." Again, he shuddered under the other's feather-light touches.

"Shush, shush. I know, I know," Tony mumbled fondly, staring down at the dishevelled archer.  
Flushed deep red and wrecked by uncontrolled shivering, with eyes ajar and dark, he was too beautiful to ignore. It was like heaven, if Tony would believe in that, this person splayed out on display in front of him., acting half conscious and half instinctive. Clint was simply beautiful.

True to his word, the engineer stopper teasing for the moment to reward his boyfriend a bit. Now finally his finger breached the entrance, softly pushing in. It looked like the archer's whole body relaxed in relief.

Clint exhaled a shuddering breath, purposefully letting the tension drain from his body. 

"Jesus, _thanks_ ," he managed to get out, not sure how distinct his words were but feeling like he ought to be saying something at least.

He took some deep breaths, fighting the light-headed feeling that the shallow gasps from before had caused, and relaxed against the mattress as Tony slowly began the prep, still without any haste, taking his time.

"You're welcome, sunshine." The speech of the man was slurred, barely understandable between the erratic breathing and arousal.

And as much as Tony loved to make Clint even more desperate, he should let him catch his breath as well as his thoughts. 

His free hand slowly caressed the smooth skin, the thumb stroking soothingly over the now more relaxed but still trembling body. 

"You're very welcome." 

Clint hummed wordlessly, his breathing evening out as he let Tony continue his ministrations, calm and gentle for now. 

After a few moments, he blindly reached down until his hand met Tony's tousled hair. He gave it a gentle tug as he murmured quietly: "Get up here."

A little confused the engineer stopped in his doing and shot Clint a questioning glance. When he was only answered with pleading eyes, Tony smiled fondly and withdrew his finger. 

Then, he laid down next to the archer and pulled him close. When they shared a heated but nevertheless intimate kiss, Tony buried his hand in Clint's hair. 

Briefly, he wondered if his boyfriend really was a kisser in bed, like the engineer had phrased it after their first time, or if that had been connected to his feelings all along. 

Shoving the thought away, (he learned to appreciate that thing so why bother?) Tony tugged at the blond hair to make himself room. He placed his lips against the slightly sweaty neck, breathing against it.

"As you wish." 

Clint wrapped both arms around his boyfriend and let his hands run down his back, pressing the other's body flush to his own. With a quiet moan, he rolled his hips against Tony's as the inventor mouthed a kiss at his neck. His hand was firmly buried in Clint's hair, holding him in place, and despite the new position, he was all at Tony's mercy again.

"Bedside drawer has lube, by the way," he pointed out breathily. 

Teasingly nipping at the skin, Tony scolded: "My my, who said I hadn't had planned something different for you?"

But despite his words, he extracted himself to open said drawer. Carelessly, the bottle was dropped on the sheets and the engineer returned to his former position. The skin was hot against his body, embracing Tony in the others body heat.

This time it was him to start moving his hips against the archer, letting them both moan. It was hot and fizzy that the engineer felt weightless and somehow at peace.

The hand that wasn't in the damp hair slowly made its way down Clint's spine until it reached his back. 

The archer leaned into each of Tony's touches while he let his own hands wander. He could feel the arc reactor's cover against his chest and reverently ran his hands over the side of his boyfriend's chest, feeling his heartbeat under his fingertips.

After a while that they spent like that, nearly unmoving, Clint felt his anticipation building up again and rolled them over so Tony was back on top of him, grinning up at the inventor before he leaned up for a kiss.

The engineer looked deliciously dishevelled, his lips cherry red, his cheeks flushed and pupils dilated. 

Tony shook his head when they broke the short kiss. "You're really bossy, aren't you? I like that!"

Blindly, he reached for the lube on the blankets and opened the bottle one-handedly. After squeezing a generous amount into his hand, Tony slipped it back between Clint's thighs, returning to his previous work. The archer was relaxed despite his previous behaviour and was pretty loose. 

Pushing two fingers into him, Tony himself grew a bit impatient, but he was determined not to rush things this time. It didn't feel right. 

By the time the archer squirmed desperately in a try to speed things up, Tony couldn't hold back anymore and guided his free hand down to himself. Soon he stroked himself in sync with Clint, breathing heavily.

The archer had closed his eyes again and was pushing back against Tony's fingers with each of the inventor's movements. He bit back a moan each time Tony teasingly brushed against his sweet spot, always grazing it just so, making sure that Clint definitely wasn't going to be able to actually come from that alone – not that he wanted to, not before the main course, but _god dammit_ if Tony didn't take pity on him soon he was probably going to die. No, really.

"Tony," he whined, drawing the word out long as he reached for his boyfriend blindly. "Come _on_. You know exactly that I'm more than just ready, what do you want me to do? Say pretty please?" 

Tony had to stop the hand on himself when Clint's hoarse voice sounded pleading again. Should he give in?

He was repeating himself, but the archer was pretty hot when he was writhing in the sheets like this. 

In the end, the engineer decided to release Clint from the teasing. Of course right after one last thing.

"Yeah, actually that sounds like a damn good idea. C'me on, say _pretty please_." Tony wanted to sound cocky, but at the moment he was already so far gone that he growled more than talked. To emphasise his point despite that, the engineer pushed more firmly against the other's prostate, letting Clint shudder once more.

With a shuddering breath, Clint gathered the resolve to glare up at his boyfriend, although he didn't believe for a second that he looked even remotely threatening. 

"Seriously?" he managed to get out. "You're – no, forget that, not gonna ha– _ah_ , fuck!" He'd interrupted himself, arching up from the bed when Tony had crooked his fingers again and made him see stars for a second. "Okay, okay, fine. Tony. _Please_." He tried to put as much loathing in his gaze as possible, but probably failed miserably. Again. God dammit, Tony. "Pretty please, there you go, now get the hell on with it."

To equal parts relieved and disappointed that he had given in that early, Tony withdrew his fingers. While shushing the archer's silent whine he grasped a pack of condoms and quickly readied himself. 

When the engineer had put himself in position, Clint in front of him was trembling with anticipation. For a moment, he thought he heard a hissed "stop staring, get on with it", but he wasn't sure. Tony himself couldn't hold out any longer anyways and finally, _finally_ buried himself in his boyfriend. They both groaned unison, needed to gather their breaths before getting really started.

Clint grabbed Tony's shoulders firmly, holding on tight as they both adjusted for a moment. Then, he wrapped one of his legs around the other's waist, stifling a moan at the new angle, and loosened his grasp to loop his arms around his boyfriend's neck, gently guiding him downwards.

He met Tony's lips halfway and caught him in a calm, languid kiss while the other man began to move, setting a slow pace. 

Totally drowning not only in the _loving_ kiss but the way they both harmonised without words, Tony just let go.

This was more than a simple stress relief, he was able to relax in a very different way than before.  
As desperate they had been minutes before, as calm they were now. All haste and impatience were gone, replaced by shared arousal and warmth.

Tony cupped the archer's face, stroked the burning cheek absently. Mumbling incomprehensible things against these swollen lips, he moved faster, not loosing the calm. Everything around them was a blur, everything faded out because the only important thing was safe in his arms.

Unconsciously, Clint leaned into Tony's hand on his cheek, his eyes closing as his world narrowed down to sensation alone, Tony's breath on his lips (the faintest taste of scotch there still), Tony moving above and inside him, Tony with his forehead leaning against his own. 

Clint went along with each of his boyfriend's movements, perfectly in sync, and along with the almost overwhelming feeling of how this was _right_ , how it was supposed to be, the heat from before flared up inside him again, building up slowly and steadily.

Time slipped out of Tony's awareness, but it felt like a lifetime but still not enough when he altered his pace once more. It wasn't faster but deeper, wrecking Clint's body with violent shudders, when every thrust hit the archer's sweet spot.

Knowing that neither of them would last long this way, Tony reached between them to pay the throbbing and leaking erection some attention back.

Clint breathed a ragged moan and arched up against Tony, teetering right on the edge between too much and not enough. He reflexively tightened his hold on his boyfriend, hiding his face against the crook of the other man's neck. 

The world around him had completely lost focus for that moment and he gave a full-bodied shiver again, muffling his moan by biting at Tony's shoulder without any real force behind it.

He let up to gasp for air, his body trembling with pleasure, and tried to string a coherent thoughts together for long enough to warn the other man, but he didn't get further than "Tony" before he lost track of what he'd wanted to say and just repeated the word again when another thrust shook him and made him tense around Tony. 

"Come for me, Clint.", he ordered in a big effort to not show his own closeness too much. Apparently, that did it for the archer, because with a strangled whimper, he clenched one more time heavily around Tony and slumped into the man's arms.

The still trembling, placid body pressed against the engineer, who kept him close. It took only a few more thrusts, which had meanwhile lost their control, for Tony to follow his boyfriend over the edge.

Exhausted and immensely satisfied he leaned against Clint himself, since he had difficulties to hold himself upright, too. In the end he just pulled the archer down with himself, lowering him on to the mattress. Clint immediately made himself comfortable on Tony's chest, his face still buried in his shoulder.

For a while, they just stayed like that, unmoving and catching their respective breaths, neither one wanting to break the moment. He didn't play any attention to how much time passed as they laid there, not that it was important.

"That.. um... wow... That was different than usual?" the engineer mumbled quietly when he'd gotten his bearings again while he carefully withdrew himself from his boyfriend and got rid of the condom.

"Mh-hm," Clint made sleepily, his head still spinning slightly. After a build-up like this, his climax had left him boneless and completely unwilling to move, despite the mess he really ought to clean up before he went to sleep. 

Nah, he'd take care of that. Later. At some point. Probably. 

With a tired huff, he snuggled closer and tilted his head up to press a kiss to Tony's jaw before he muttered indistinctly: "Love you." It still wasn't something that they said casually – in fact, he wasn't sure if he'd ever said it directly before, but he felt calm and serene enough to do it now without freaking out about how Tony was going to react.

Sometimes, in situations like this, Tony was just speechless. This man, this strong and nearly paranoid person had let him into the position which was gained only by a few people. Trust and love.

And Tony really wasn't sure how he could handle that. It sounded so easy, but to be confronted with it made everything more difficult.

But then the engineer looked down at the man holding on to him, using him as some kind of cushion, he had to smile. "Quite right, too."

Clint blinked his eyes open to look up at Tony with his eyebrows raised.

"You _nerd_ ," he enunciated slowly, his voice shaking with suppressed laughter. "How are you even real?" He swatted at the inventor's shoulder, but that was about all the indignation he could muster before he relaxed again and nuzzled Tony's neck. "You better warn me if you plan on disappearing into other dimensions anytime soon." 

"How could I, when I've got such a pretty boy pinning me down? If I would leave I would take you with me," Tony joked. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Birdie."

Slowly the last remains of adrenalin we're leaving the engineers body, and he could feel the slightly chilly air of Clint's apartment. As nice an archer-blanket was, it wasn't enough to shoo away the cold entirely.

With a bit effort Tony managed to grab the rumbled blanket and smooth it over Clint and himself. "Nah, isn't that better?" he mumbled, checking if his boyfriend was thoroughly covered. 

"Mh-hm," Clint made again, smiling to himself slightly. 

Yeah, they'd taken a bit to get here, and it could probably have gone a lot more smoothly if they'd both been more open about a lot of things, but what did complaining do now? And honestly, he wouldn't trade this for anything.

Clint leaned up to press a brief kiss to his boyfriend's lips and muttered a quiet "goodnight" before he settled back in, reaching up to take his hearing aids out for the night. 

"G'night, Clint," Tony answered quietly, knowing that he wouldn't be heard anymore.

Then, after a few seconds, he spoke up again. "And I love you, too." Obviously confused by the movements of his chest, the archer blinked up at him, asking with his eyes if he had said something. 

Tony just shook his head and pushed Clint's head back onto his chest, letting his hand linger in the sweaty blond strands. Well, who had thought one year ago that Tony Stark would have a relationship with a guy? And a happy one at that?

He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to wander, drifting into a state of peaceful half-sleep. Yes, he definitely was happy, and he was more than determined to keep it that way.

Of course, that wouldn't work out all the time, but he didn't have to handle things alone anymore. They both had friends who didn't mind sticking their noses into other people's business and knew how to corrupt his favourite AI. Tony really had no reason to worry.

 _FIN_


End file.
